The Death of Magic
by lizardmm
Summary: When Faith defeated Angelus, Magic came to an end. How will Buffy react to losing not only her Slayer abilities, but also Faith as well? Part III - The Death of Magic
1. Chapter 1

**It's been two weeks since I lost my heart.**

"I wondered when you'd get here, Blondie."

Faith stood up from the red leather couch in the center of a blindingly white room. Her beautiful features were twisted into a look of annoyance as though she'd been waiting for a while. Buffy quickly took in her surroundings. The two former slayers were in a nearly empty space, not unlike the one in which they had only months ago shared so many Slayer dreams. But the elder woman knew better than to hope that even beyond the dimensional divide that she would still be able to communicate with her sister-Slayer.

"You're not really here," Buffy frowned. "This is a dream."

"Does that matter, B?" The dark woman frowned as well, looking hurt by the blonde's words. She cocked her head to the side and stared at her partner. "I thought you'd be happy to see me?"

"I'm not a Slayer anymore," the small blonde stated gravely, shaking her head. "So this can't be a Slayer dream. You're not real. You're just in my head."

Faith stepped dangerously close to the older woman. Wordlessly she took the blonde's hands in her own and placed them on her ample chest. A smirk found its way to the Boston woman's mouth. "I _feel _real enough, don't I, Buffy?"

The Californian dropped her hands to her sides, reluctantly releasing the dark woman's breasts. She felt the dampness accumulating on her face. Faith reached out and brushed the stray tears from the golden-haired woman's bronzed face. "You're crying," she stated. The brunette looked at her fingertips quizzically as if she couldn't imagine why they were wet.

Buffy inhaled loudly through her nose, not wanting to become a snotty mess. "You're gone," she explained.

The Californian tried to remind her brain that this was only a dream – it wasn't really Faith standing in front of her, looking devastatingly gorgeous in black leather. But when she looked into her lost love's dark chocolate eyes – no longer cold and charcoal colored like they had turned when she came back from the Shadow Men – she felt all her resolve melt away.

Buffy threw her arms around the taller woman, pulling her in for a crushing embrace. She buried her face into the Boston woman's neck and let her pain spill out onto the other woman's olive-tinted flesh. "Oh, God," she sobbed. "I miss you so much."

Feeling the tears falling on her skin, Faith gently eased the woman back to gain purchase on her face. She swiped her thumb under the small blonde's hazel-green eyes, uselessly wiping away tears that were only quickly replaced by fresh, salted sorrow.

"Baby, shhhh…" she tried to calm her partner down. The Boston girl pulled the shorter woman back into her body, returning the embrace. "It's okay. I'm here," she murmured, kissing the top of the small girl's blonde head. She lightly stroked her hand down the back of Buffy's head, smoothing the silky strands.

Buffy sighed, stemming her tears for the moment. She leaned her head on the other woman's shoulder, just listening to the steady throbbing of her heartbeat and enjoying the heat of her lover's skin.

"You need to wake up, baby," the Boston woman murmured in her lover's ear, her thick lips brushing against the skin. "You need to get out of bed."

"I want to stay here," the Californian insisted softly. She closed her eyes and concentrated again on the sound of the lost slayer's heart.

"They need you, B." Faith replied. She continued to hold onto the smaller woman. Her body felt so fragile, so vulnerable in her strong arms. "I'll always be right here, waiting for you. But right now, they need you."

Buffy looked up at the dark slayer, new tears streaming down her face. "But I need _you_!" she cried. "I can't do this without you, Faith," the blonde sobbed. "I don't _want _to do this without you."

The pulsing of the Boston woman's heart became louder, echoing in the blonde woman's ears. The rhythmic beating continued louder and louder as if the dark slayer's heart threatened to jump out of her body.

Dawn knocked briskly on the solid wooden door. She had been knocking on the bedroom door for the past few minutes with no response from the other side. Ever since Faith had…gone…her sister had cloistered herself in the dark slayer's old bedroom, only emerging when she needed food. When she did momentarily resurface, the blonde girl barely acknowledged the others. She moved from one room to the next like a zombie, or as if in a deep trance.

The teenager – formerly a giant, centaur, and mermaid – was inwardly relieved that after Faith had defeated Angelus, magic was banished from the earth. Her own body had experienced enough magic for an entire lifetime due to her misguided bedroom antics in college. But with the end of magic came a number of circumstances that perhaps none of them had fully considered.

True, all vampires had disintegrated and demons were banished from the earth, but the Fates took no consideration of who had been good and who had been evil when it locked the gate to Hell. Willow and others at the Coven were no longer able to do magic of the Wicca variety, and demons like Clem whom the group had tolerated back in Sunnydale were gone – banished to alternate dimensions.

But most hurtful of all, especially to the two Summers' girls, had been the fate of the Boston-born slayer. In her preparation to defeat Angelus, she had sought out the Shadow Men – the ancients responsible for the creation of the First Slayer. They had given her the power necessary to defeat Angelus, but it came with a price – her humanity. When the Hellmouth opened itself that brisk Cleveland night just two weeks ago, it reclaimed all the magicks in this world – including the demon aspect of the Slayer.

Buffy and the other slayers were rendered powerless. No longer the Chosen of the world, they now had to deal with the consequences of being normal women and girls. Faith, recently returned from her journey to the Shadow Men, had suffered a more severe ending, however. Without the proper balance of demon to humanity within her form, the Hellmouth had reclaimed her – body and soul.

Dawn tried at the doorknob and finding it unlocked, cautiously opened the bedroom door. The door opened only partially when it hit against a large pile of dirty clothes. "Buffy?" she called into the dark room.

Hearing her younger sister's voice, the blonde woman pulled the duvet cover over her head. All of that insistent knocking on her bedroom door had awoken her from another dream starring the dark slayer.

Shoving a little harder with her shoulder, Dawn was able to open the bedroom door more fully, pushing the giant pile of laundry further into the room. The former Key maneuvered around the discarded pizza and take-out boxes strewn on the floor, scowling as she padded over to the bedroom curtains.

The teen yanked open the blinds, allowing streams of brilliant sunlight to pour into the stale bedroom for the first time in weeks.

"Are you ever going to get up, Buffy?" Dawn asked, annoyance creeping into her tone. She placed her hands on her hips, awaiting a reaction from the blonde woman.

Her sister merely moaned indistinguishably from underneath the covers.

"At least let me do your laundry," her younger sister insisted. "I'm sure those sheets could use a good washing." She wrinkled her nose for effect. "Or thirty."

Buffy suddenly sat straight up in bed, a look of panic in her eyes. "No!" she rasped. Her voice sounded tired and worn, evidence of how hard she had been crying the past two weeks. "You can't take her away from me," she begged. "It's all I have left." She clung desperately to the cotton bedding, wrapping the sheets around her thin wrists.

Dawn held up her hands in retreat. "It's okay, Buffy," she sighed, defeated. "I'm not going to take them from you." The young woman shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry…I-I'm just trying to help. This has been hard on all of us," she reminded her elder sister.

Buffy rolled on her side, away from the young woman, and pulled the flannel duvet over her head again. Dawn stared at the Buffy-sized lump under the comforter and sighed sadly. She tiptoed her way back over to the shutters and pulled the drapes closed again.

The former Key soundlessly crept out of the bedroom and closed the heavy wooden door behind her with a soft clicking noise.

Her sister was clearly not ready to re-emerge yet.

**It's been three weeks since I lost my heart.**

POV Buffy

When I wake up, a low groan escapes my lips and one side of my face feels damp. I touch my cheek and bring my fingers in front of my face, looking at the small droplets of water accumulated there. Why am I wet?

I gingerly push myself up into a seated position and blink my eyes a few times, squinting into my surroundings. Why is it so bright? I curse under my breath and close my eyes, allowing myself to be swallowed in the familiar darkness. Dawn must have opened the blinds again while I slept last night. Sneaky brat.

A hand travels to my forehead and I press there, hoping to stem the hangover I feel quickly springing on me. Ugh, my ears are ringing. Why are those birds so loud?

And more importantly, as I open my eyes again and let them adjust to the bright light and take in my surroundings, why am I sleeping in a graveyard?

I blink a few times and it all comes flooding back. The bottle of alcohol I'd found under her bed. The tears that refused to stop falling. Wandering down into the makeshift cemetery beyond the castle walls in my pajamas. I sat here, at her gravesite, drinking and crying until I must have fallen asleep or passed out. And now I'm covered in dew.

I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. Gah, the ground is _so _not comfortable. And, I think I have an entire _tree_ tangled in my hair. A smirk forms on my lips as I ponder something. At least I'm starting to leave my bedroom; that should keep them satisfied for a while. Let's not mention that I fell asleep in the graveyard though. At least it's not dangerous – I mean besides the major ick factor. No more worrying about vampires. No demons. No witches. And…no Slayers.

I'm supposed to get to live my life now. I'm normal. Or, well…as normal as _Buffy Summers _can be. I'm just like every other girl in the world. Not Chosen to do anything beyond living my life. Except that I don't have a heart. How can you live without a heart? It's like I'm the Tin-man in the _Wizard of Oz. _

I look around at the scattered graves from my seated position. We've lost so many along the way. There's too many innocent, brave people buried beneath this Scottish soil. Too many graves with no actual bodies. Mom. Tara. Anya. And now Faith.

It's been three weeks since I lost my heart.

"Buffy?"

The small blonde turned her head to see the owner of the voice. Her redheaded best friend padded down the worn dirt path towards the small graveyard. The light wind whipped her long red hair, and she struggled to keep the strands out of her face while not spilling the warm beverage steaming out of the ceramic mug in her hand.

"Buffy," she started again, coming closer. "What are you doing down here? And so early?" She paused in front of the former slayer, her eyes scrutinizing the blonde's outfit and the sleep lines across her face. "You-you," she stammered nervously, "you didn't _sleep _here last night did you?"

"What are _you _doing down here, Wills?" Buffy interrogated, not answering her questions.

A slight blush formed on her face. "I, um, sometimes come down here to…to talk to Tara," she admitted to her friend. The blonde nodded once in understanding and gave her a small smile, letting her know her secret was safe.

"That was really rough on you….losing her…" the golden-haired woman naively observed. Unable to look at her friend, Buffy began absent-mindedly pulling at the long blades of grass in the fresh sod.

Buffy could almost hear the ironic smile in her friend's voice. "Well, I tried to _end the world_…" Willow reminded her, "So yea…it was rough." The former witch sat down next to her friend in the grass, crossing her legs Indian-style. She looked thoughtfully into the mug cupped between her two hands. Blowing on the hot beverage, she carefully chose her next words.

"How come," she started tentatively, "you didn't tell me about you and Faith?"

Buffy exhaled deeply, having already anticipated this conversation with her best friend. Not only was the former witch one of her best friends, but she'd also been doing the whole girlie-loving gig for a while. It seemed like such an innocent question; Willow should have been the obvious choice to go to first after the blonde and the rogue slayer first became intimate. So why hadn't she confided in her friend?

Buffy twisted her hands together anxiously and continued to stare at the ground. She sighed sadly before beginning. "I-I don't know, Will. I just knew how much you'd never really warmed up to Faith." She looked up at her best friend, ignoring how much she wanted to cry. "I guess," she choked out, "I was worried you'd think differently of me."

Willow shook her head sadly. "I wish you would have told me. I was so...so..." she struggled to find the right words, "naïve in high school. I mean, sure I thought I was pretty cool, being in the know about monsters and mystic portals….but everyday life stuff…" She twisted her mouth up. "I think I was book smart, but just not _life _smart."

Buffy looked up from her hands. "What do you mean?"

The redhead took another sip from her mug and cleared her throat. "When Faith came to Sunnydale, I was jealous. And I didn't know how to deal with that emotion. It made me hate her almost from day one." She paused, as if remembering that long-ago world. "Of course it bothered me that Xander was drooling over her skanky ass…" she flushed and flashed her eyes at her best friend. "Sorry," she murmured, embarrassed by her slip. "But I was more jealous about you."

Buffy's eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent, allowing her friend to continue.

"I was your best friend, but you and she had a connection I could never touch," the former witch explained.

"You mean because we were slayers," Buffy nodded, looking wistful.

Willow frowned and shook her head. "No…not just the Slayer thing. It was so much more. Like, you could be a different person around her. You were wilder, more confident…reckless." The redhead blushed. "It was kind of sexy."

"Wills!" the blonde exclaimed, nearly choking on her tongue.

The former witch hid behind her hands. "What?" she exclaimed, innocently. "You know there's no lesbian bug or something that just instantly bites you, right? Tara might have been the first girl I dated, but she certainly wasn't my first crush."

"I, uh…" the blonde felt incredibly awkward and red in the face. "Are you hitting on me, Wills?"

The redhead snorted and rolled her eyes. "No offense, Buff. But you're not really my type anymore. If you hadn't noticed," she drawled, "I kinda have a thing for brunettes now."

Buffy smirked knowingly. "Right there with ya."

Willow smiled mischievously at her friend. "Do you know how much fun we could have had gossiping this entire time?" She waved her hands around excitedly in the air. "I _never_ get to talk to anyone about lesbian stuff. You know, like…" she dropped her voice to a hush. "Like about me and Kennedy?"

The redhead beamed and continued to babble on. "I mean, I'm sureXander would _love _to hear all the gory details, but as much as I love the guy, I'm sonot _ever _going there," she grinned widely. "It would fuel his fantasies far too much for his own good."

The blonde woman gave her friend a warm smile. It felt strange on her lips. A smile.

The slayer bit her bottom lip. "If I could go back…I would do things so differently," she sighed to herself. "So many things," she whispered. She twisted her fingers around the tall blades of grass until they snapped in her feminine fingers.

A silence fell upon the long-time friends and Buffy went back to picking at blades of grass. Finally, she looked up from the ground and grimaced. "Have you heard from Giles?" she asked. "About where he went?"

Willow worried her bottom lip and silently shook her head. "Sorry, Buff. No one's heard from him since…" she trailed off and averted her eyes.

After the Hellmouth had swallowed her lover, Buffy had banished the Watcher, accusing him in her manic rant of betraying her – of betraying Faith. She believed that he knew all along that if Faith won the battle against Angelus, the Hellmouth would claim her along with all of the world's magic.

In the aftermath of Angelus's defeat, vampires everywhere turned to dust. The demons' essence sucked away, leaving the skeleton of the host body behind. Police were baffled by the enormous number of decaying corpses randomly strewn across the globe. Witches no longer possessed the ability to perform simple spells, yet alone powerful magicks. The demons were sent to alternate dimensions, regardless of their previous behavior on earth. Those with demon aspects were only saved if their humanity outweighed their magic. And in those cases, the magic had been sucked from them, like Dawn and her former mermaid status.

But because Faith had taken on more of the demon's essence, because she had accepted what the Shadow Men offered her, she possessed too little humanity to remain in this world.

A strong wind blew across the Scottish meadow, the tall blades of grass bending from the massive gust. Willow held her hand over her coffee mug to protect her liquid breakfast from leaves and other debris. Buffy closed her eyes, the intensity of the wind stinging her sensitive eyes. Everything just seemed to _hurt _more lately.

When the wind finally died down, the two friends found they had been joined by a third.

"Wesley?" Willow sputtered, climbing quickly to her feet.

The former Watcher stood before the two women, dressed in a freshly pressed three-piece suit. He readjusted his jacket, coughing to clear his throat, and fiddled with the knot in his tie.

Finally, he spoke.

"There may be a way to get her back."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Hey! Look who's out of bed!" Xander chirped cheerfully.

Willow and Buffy walked into the castle's Great Hall from outside and were greeted by the one-eyed man. Xander stood in the center of the large foyer, cheerfully munching his sugary cereal.

Xander eyeballed the former slayer's unusual outfit. "Not to be nosey or anything," he stated, "but why do your pajamas have grass stains on them, Buff?"

"Because I slept outside, Xander," the blonde stated dismissively as she continued to walk past the man.

Xander opened his mouth as the small woman walked by, but he couldn't think of an appropriate response to her unexpected answer.

"We have an unexpected visitor, Xander," Willow said vaguely as she followed Buffy. "We need to get everyone together for a meeting."

"A visitor?" the man questioned. His one good eyeball flew wide open when he saw Wesley enter the castle unexpectedly, walking through a brick wall.

"What the _hell?_" the former carpenter sputtered, nearly dropping his cereal bowl on the ground.

The sharply dressed ghost gave Xander a curt nod as he needlessly adjusted his suit jacket. "Hello, Xander," he greeted formally. "You're looking well."

"Wesley?" sputtered the California boy. "How are you here?"

The English man sighed. "I'm a ghost, Xander. Not an evil demon," he replied briskly. "This is religion, not magic. Heaven and Hell have nothing to do with magic."

"Wow," Xander admired, a strange smile on his lips. "That's pretty deep." The man stood in the large foyer in his pajamas, looking as though his entire world had been re-arranged.

"Xander?" Buffy called from the top of the staircase, tapping her foot impatiently. The man roused from his silent musings and looked up at the blonde woman. "Go tell everyone important we're having a meeting in the Library," she instructed. "We're opening the Hellmouth."

Buffy stood in the hot shower, letting the spray pour over her face so that her salty tears intermingled with the running water. She placed her palm flat against the cool tile, acutely aware of the way her shoulder blades shook with every sob that washed over her small frame.

When Wesley had suddenly reappeared and told the blonde and her redheaded friend his plan to reopen the Hellmouth and rescue the dark slayer, Buffy had felt the first spark of hope in weeks. She had nearly felt her heart beat again inside her chest. But the former Watcher had sounded so uncertain and hesitant as he explained his idea to the two friends that Buffy couldn't allow herself to believe that they might actually be able to retrieve Faith.

The soft, yet strong hands that slid around her narrow waist surprised the showering girl.

"Why so sad, B?" the dark slayer murmured into the blonde's ear, her lips tickling over the skin.

Buffy closed her eyes and allowed the figure standing behind her to wrap her tighter in the warm embrace. She could feel the Boston girl's hard nipples scratch against her bare back.

"I'm hallucinating again, aren't I?" Buffy sighed.

"Naw," Faith insisted lightly, kissing the side of the girl's neck softly. "You're not crazy, baby; just daydreaming is all."

Buffy turned around to face her lover, the shower's spray now pounding on her back. She wrapped her arms around the dangerous curves of the Boston woman's naked waist and buried her face in the small space where Faith's shoulder met her neck.

"Why do you feel so real then?" the Californian whispered into the dark woman's soft neck.

The golden-haired woman could feel Faith shrug under her embrace. "Dunno, Twinkie. Guess you've just got a wicked imagination." The brunette paused, allowing a mischievous smile to curl onto her lips. "Too bad we never got the chance to fully exploit that imagination of yours _in bed_." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as she looked down at the smaller woman.

"I-I know this isn't real," Buffy observed, tilting her head up to gaze into the deep liquid pools of the Boston woman's eyes. "But I just…I need…." she trailed off, her eyes shimmering with desperation.

Faith brought a hand down to Buffy's face and softly stroked her fingertips across her lover's cheekbones. Her fingers trailed down to her chin and she cupped the woman's face, slowly tilting it upwards. The Boston-born slayer allowed her right hand to fall to Buffy's slender waist. Her touch felt hot against the golden-haired woman's naked skin. Faith's left hand continued to hold the blonde's face, as she slowly leaned down, closing the space between their wanting mouths. Buffy closed her eyes lightly; she could just barely make out the dark shape of her lover's body as she gazed from beneath her thick eyelashes.

The brunette slayer brushed her thumb across Buffy's lips. The small blonde poked her tongue out slightly, wetting the other woman's digit as it slid across her mouth. Faith sighed quietly, feeling her lover's talented tongue stroke across her thumb. Memories of what the blonde's tongue could do flashed through her mind, and she involuntarily shuddered from the vivid images.

Faith raised both hands to the blonde's head and gently took the elder woman's face in her hands. She brushed her fingertips against the outsides of the girl's ears, her thumbs stroking along her earlobes.

"Close your eyes," the Boston girl quietly instructed.

Buffy obediently shut her eyes tight. She could feel her heart bursting inside her chest. Her skin prickled in anticipation despite the scalding hot spray of her morning shower. The blonde woman's body jumped slightly when she felt the unexpected pressure against her right eyelid. Faith moved slowly over to the left eye, still holding her lover's head still with her two strong hands. She softly pressed her bee-stung lips against Buffy's closed left eyelid.

The Boston girl's mouth moved softly, more freely, against her lover's skin. She kissed a trail across the blonde woman's cheekbones up to the tip of her right ear. She scraped her teeth against the sensitive skin and nipped her way down to the right earlobe, quickly sucking the fleshy bit in between her lips. Buffy groaned quietly and pressed her pelvic bone hard against the brunette's naked mons. Her breath quickened inside her throat and her body hummed for more stimulation.

Faith slowly moved next to the Californian's angular jaw line, pressing her hot mouth against the soft, fragrant skin. She slipped her tongue out from between her two pursed lips to taste the small slayer. The younger girl traveled across the defined lines of her lover's jaw, back to the small sighing mouth. Faith pressed her full lips against the corners of Buffy's mouth. Small, chaste kisses.

Buffy felt the dark slayer's grip tighten on her face as she brought the shorter woman's mouth within a breath's length of her own. Faith lowered her mouth to devour her lover's lips. She softly pressed her mouth fully against the other woman's, her tongue darting out to swab across the expanse of the Californian's candy mouth.

Buffy hummed her approval, the vibrations tickling the rogue slayer's mouth. The blonde opened her mouth slightly, granting the younger woman's tongue access. Faith dragged the tip of her tongue across the small blonde's perfect bottom teeth. She gently bit Buffy's full lower lip and sucked it into her own mouth. The Californian closed her eyes tighter, her body swooning and her brain dizzy from the intensity of her lover's kiss and the steam that had rapidly accumulated in the bathroom.

Buffy moaned as her tongue sought out the younger slayer's. She brushed her tongue against that of the brunette's, deepening the kiss. Buffy's hands traveled up the expanse of the Boston girl's flat stomach, coming to a rest at her full, naked breasts. She cupped the fleshy globes in her small hands, the hard nipples poking into her palms.

Faith released her hold on the other girl's mouth before the kiss could turn into something more. She leaned back slightly, her bruising lips just centimeters from the small slayer's mouth. "Time to motorvate, B. You're gonna get prune-y and everyone's waiting," Faith murmured sadly, her breath bursting hot against the other woman's pursed lips. "I'll be seein' ya, babe."

When Buffy opened her eyes, the Boston-born slayer had disappeared. The blonde closed her eyes and swallowed hard, feeling a wash of emotions flooding her system. She placed a hand against the tiled wall in her shower to steady herself.

Turning off the water and stepping out onto the plush bathroom mat, Buffy attempted to busy her mind with thoughts of something other than her former lover. She inadvertently brought her fingertips to her mouth and touched against her kiss-swollen lips. How was it possible that it had felt so real? Was she quietly and slowly going insane? Why did it seem like Faith was everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time?

Buffy slowly padded out of the bathroom, a terry-cloth towel loosely tied around her naked form. It was hard to think of anything but the Boston girl, being in the brunette's old bedroom. Buffy seemed to be surrounded by everything that could possibly remind her of her lost love. The bathroom was bad enough, but the bedroom was even worse.

Buffy sat down on the soft mattress and began drying her blonde hair with the soft bathroom towel. Leaning over, feeling the blood rushing to her head, she tried to ignore the stinging tears that seemed to unexpectedly spring into her eyes so easily. She never knew a person could cry so much. The slender woman allowed the towel to fall to the ground and she buried her face in her two hands. The tears came quicker now, spilling out into her hands and onto the carpeting.

Buffy stiffened and swallowed her tears when she heard the soft knock on her bedroom door.

"Buffy?" Willow called, her voice hesitant and gentle. "We're ready when you are."

The blonde sat up and quickly wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands and sniffled loudly. "I'll be right down, Wills," she announced loud enough to be heard through the closed door. "I'm just…just finishing getting ready." Her voice wavered and cracked; she knew her best friend would know she had been crying again.

"Okay, Buff. I'll see you down there." The redhead hesitated outside of the door. "Buffy?" she called again. "Wesley's plan will work. We're going to get her back," she insisted. "I know we will."

The former slayer felt her eyes fill with fresh tears at her friend's words. She had suffered so much the past three weeks. This was too much to hope for.

The blonde walked into the castle's impressive library to find the original Scoobies gathered in the spacious room with Dawn, Kennedy, Robin, and Riley. The group sat around a long rectangular wooden table, everyone's conversations ending when the former slayer entered the room. Buffy walked to the head of the table and stood with the ghostly Wesley at her right elbow.

"So, uh, what's with the poltergeist?" Riley asked, his voice cracking. "We gonna have to call Ghostbusters?" the soldier tried to joke.

Ignoring her former boyfriend, Buffy began the meeting. "I don't need to point out how Faith's absence has affected me," she started slowly, addressing the assembled group. "You've all been here in the castle, so you know only too well what these past few weeks have been like for me."

Dawn quickly interrupted from her seat at the long table. "For all of us, Buffy," she lightly corrected the blonde. "We all miss her."

Buffy stopped long enough to give her sister a gentle smile. It was encouraging to know that at least she had Dawn on her side. It was going to take some fancy talking to convince the others to support her in this decision.

"Wesley is back," Buffy continued. "He's a ghost, but he's back." She paused momentarily to suck in a deep breath. "And he thinks there's a way to get Faith back too."

The blonde leader stepped back from her position at the head of the table and gave the former Watcher a curt nod, indicating that the floor was his. Wesley stepped closer toward the table and cleared his throat before beginning.

"There's a chance," he stated. "There's a very good chance we could reopen the Hellmouth without the use of magic. The only problem is, there's no way of knowing what will happen if we do."

Wesley paused momentarily, allowing his words to settle in. It was paramount that everyone knew the potential consequences of this proposed plan to retrieve the Boston-born slayer.

"We know from Buffy's adventures in the Future that no Slayer will be Called again until the 23rd century," the English man continued. "Melaka Fray will be the first Slayer Called for multiple generations. Now we can assume that young girls are still being born with the _potential _to become a Slayer, but until the need arises – until Evil returns to our world – the Slayer's essence will remain dormant in all of them."

The ghost removed himself from the head of the table and began to pace at the outer edge of the large room. He continued to talk, however, not really having planned his speech. Thinking out loud, the former Watcher revealed all of his private worries and uncertainties about the Future if they followed through with his plan. The group continued to remain silent, intently waiting for his next words.

"If we open the Hellmouth and are unable to retrieve Faith," Wesley began, "there's an almost certain chance that we have doomed this dimension. With no guardian over the Hellmouth, Evil would be free to run wild with only a few mortals like yourselves to battle the demons."

He stopped his pacing and glanced briefly over at the blonde leader. Buffy nodded, encouraging the English ghost to continue. "Although Evil would exist, no Slayer would be Called. Faith, in her current state, continues to hold the Slayer line," Wesley reminded the group. "As long as she survives whatever Hell dimension she currently resides, no other girls will be Called." He stopped and shook his head, still thinking out loud.

"There's also no way to predict if any of the former Slayers will regain their former powers if Evil returns. Willow," he looked over at the seated redhead, "you perhaps would have the ability to perform magic once again, but there's no knowing the breadth or command you would have anymore."

"So long story short, Wesley," Robin interrupted from his position at the table. "We don't know what would happen if we reopened the Hellmouth."

"In short…yes," the former Watcher conceded.

"But you still haven't told us about your plan to reopen the Hellmouth," Dawn pointed out. "How could we do that without magic?" she asked.

Wesley glanced uneasily at Willow. "There might be a way to open portals, and perhaps the Hellmouth, without magic. Before Fred died," he started, slowly weighing his words, "she was working on a more predictable way to open portals using physics. We could very possibly use _science_ to reopen the Cleveland Hellmouth."

"But…Fred is dead," Willow observed hesitantly. Wesley had already told Buffy and her his plan out in the Scottish cemetery, but the redhead was still uncertain she would be able to decipher Fred's notes – if they even still existed.

Wesley nodded and closed his eyes as if remembering the woman's death. "She's dead, but not gone," the ghost clarified quietly.

Xander held up his hands in mock retreat. "Woah, woah, woah. Hold up now," he commanded. "Are you telling us that Fred is still around?" he asked incredulously. "Kind of like you are?"

Wesley adjusted the glasses on his face. "It seems that because Illryia took over her body," he stated, "it barred Fred from ever going to the Afterlife. She instead was stuck in a kind of limbo dimension and would reappear when Illryia was in close proximity to me."

"So when magic ended," Willow asked, clearly amazed, "Fred's soul decided to stick around instead of going to Heaven?"

"It's unclear why either Fred or myself are still here," Wesley stated curtly. "If you believe in this sort of thing, it would seem that our work on this plane of existence isn't quite done."

"So lemme get this right," Kennedy interrupted abruptly. "_Ghosts_ are going to use _Science_ to open the Hellmouth?" She shook her head and pursed her lips. "And here I thought I was gonna get a normal human life after the Hellmouth closed," she muttered under her breath.

Buffy's hazel-green eyes shot icy daggers towards the bratty slayer. "When your opinion is needed, Kennedy, I'll ask for it," she spewed bitterly. "Which is never."

"Who made you the boss again, Buffy?" retorted the bratty brunette, jumping up from her seated position. "You're just like all the rest of us now." She waved her hands manically and quickly closed the distance between herself and the former leader. "Whatdya think you're gonna do without your Slayer strength to keep us in line? Nothing says you're our leader. Nothing says we have to listen to a word you say." The young woman was now toe-to-toe with the Californian. She punctuated her next words with a pointed finger jabbed hard into the blonde's breastplate. "You're just a Small. Weak. Blonde."

Wordlessly and as if in slow motion, the group of friends watched as Buffy cocked her arm backwards and punched the mouthy girl in the nose. Kennedy's hands flew up to her face and she screamed in pain. "You bitch!" she snarled, holding onto her nose.

Buffy gloated, seeing the tears instantly welling up in the young brunette's eyes. "Might not have my powers anymore, Ken; but I still know how to throw a punch."

Still holding her nose between her two hands, Kennedy fled from the room, shouting expletives as she hastily exited. Willow looked worriedly after her girlfriend as she escaped from their sight, but the redhead remained in her seat. This was far too important of a meeting to miss because of Kennedy's over-zealous mouth.

The blonde turned on her heels and faced a wall of books. "Fuck!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the library. "That hurt!" she exclaimed loudly. Buffy turned around again and looked at her startled friends as she shook out her throbbing hand. "So that's what a punch really feels like, huh?"

Xander couldn't suppress the smile that filtered onto his chiseled face.

"Okay, so let's just say this is possible," Robin rumbled, turning everyone's attention back to Wesley's plan. "Opening the Hellmouth. I think the more important question is _should _we?"

No one said a word in response. Xander and Willow exchanged nervous looks.

"Buffy, are you really ready to jeopardize the future of this world just to bring Faith back?" Robin challenged the blonde who had retained her position at the head of the table.

Buffy leaned her hands flat on the table and stared hard at the former demon-hunter. "You're either with me or you're against me, Robin," she stated coolly. "We don't have time for fence-sitters. And if you're against me, I have no use for you."

Riley stared dumbstruck at his former girlfriend, astounded by her words and attitude. He tore his glance away from the blonde and turned towards her cohort of friends. "You all are really just going to let her do this?" he asked incredulously.

The group remained uncomfortably silent, exchanging guilty glances until Willow's voice filtered across the room. "We put it to a vote," she stated somberly, looking anxiously around at the small group of former demon-fighters. "Raise your hand if you want to re-open the Hellmouth."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**3: Something unexpected**

_Riley stared dumbstruck at his former girlfriend, astounded by her words and attitude. He tore his glance away from the blonde and turned towards her cohort of friends. "You all are really just going to let her do this?" he asked incredulously._

The group remained uncomfortably silent, exchanging guilty glances until Willow's voice filtered across the room. "We put it to a vote," she stated somberly, looking anxiously around at the small group of former demon-fighters. "Raise your hand if you want to re-open the Hellmouth."

The group hesitated, looking at each other uneasily. Was this really happening? Were they really going to vote on this? And most importantly, were they ready to risk the Fate of the World for the opportunity to rescue Faith from Hell?

Before anyone could raise his or her hand or reject the ghostly Watcher's proposal, a flash of lightning cracked through the evening sky, illuminating the large library despite the overhead track lighting. The low rumble of thunder echoed in the high-ceilinged space. The sound of sharp rain drops collided with the glass panes of the large windowed room, sounding more like hail than the soothing lull of gentle rain.

Another bolt of light crashed, the thunder nearly simultaneous this time, causing the overhead lights in the castle library to flicker. The halogen lamps briefly struggled before they faded completely, casting the group of demon-fighters in darkness save the fire crackling in the library's mammoth stone fireplace.

Xander groaned into the darkness. "I knew we shoulda sprung for that generator."

Robin snorted from his seat on the other side of the table. "I'd call it Fate. Someone up there doesn't want us voting on this."

Dawn grinned despite the seriousness of the group's collective meeting. "This is totally cool," she bubbled. "It's like we're really in medieval times or something."

"Well, it _is _a castle, Dawnie," the redheaded Wicca smiled at the teen.

The cumbersome wooden doors to the grand library unexpectedly opened with a long squeak. Everyone looked in the direction of the door, squinting into the shadows to see who was entering the closed meeting.

"I thought I said no interruptions," Buffy snapped into the darkness.

A single lit candle seemed to hover in the air and slowly move toward the group.

Xander looked sideways at his redheaded best friend. "Uh, Wills?" he stated uneasily from his seat at the conference table. "What's with the parlor tricks?"

"I'm not doing it, Xander," the former witch protested animatedly. "Magic is still a no-go, even for me."

The candle stopped moving and finally cast its light on the individual who held it.

Buffy, from her place at the head of the long wooden table, muttered the name. Her voice was a mixture of anger and reverence: "Giles."

The dim candlelight threw eerie shadows across the room and illuminated Giles' tired and worn face. The man looked as though he had aged several years since Buffy's banishment from the castle only three weeks ago.

"This can't happen, Buffy," the former Watcher stated gravely. His voice sounded as strained and tired as his face appeared.

Buffy slammed her fist against the solid wooden table, startling those around her. "I will _not _let you make this decision for me, Giles," she declared. "I stopped taking orders from you _and_ the Council a long time ago."

Riley stood up from the table and angrily shoved his chair backwards. "And _we're _not going to let you make this decision for _the world, _Buffy. There's no way you're jeopardizing everything just to bring that murderer back."

Xander stood up abruptly and got in the former Marine's face. "Stand down, soldier," he threatened, his chiseled jaw clenching in anger. "You don't get to talk to Buffy like that."

The room erupted into a jumble of raised voices and shrill accusations. Buffy lost herself momentarily to the chaos of the candle-lit room and she placed her hands on either side of her head, willing the verbal onslaught to end. Former friends and allies were quickly becoming enemies and strangers.

Faith walked up beside Buffy and placed a hand at her hip, jolting the elder girl from her silent rumblings. "Looks like the party's gettin' a little outta control here, baby," the dark-haired woman purred in her ear. Her hot breath tickled against the Californian's skin.

"What are you doing here?" the blonde slayer turned and hissed at her former partner.

Faith stared guiltily at her lover. "You're sick, B," she explained simply, dropping her hand from the golden-haired woman's waist and frowning. "You need some help."

"What do you mean I'm sick? I feel fine!" she exclaimed. "I'm just trying to get you back; is that so selfish of me?" the blonde emphatically protested, manically waving her arms in the air.

Through the chaos of yelling figures and aggressive accusations, Dawn paused momentarily to look at her sister who seemed to be having an animated conversation with herself…or an imaginary friend.

"Buffy?" she called over the din of angry voices. When her sister continued to rant, Dawn frowned and stood from her seat. "Buffy?" she tried again, taking a few steps closer to the small blonde.

Without warning, Buffy fell onto the carpeted floor and her body began to seize.

The sound of the ocean crashing onto the sandy shore reverberated in Buffy's ears and when she opened her eyes, she was forced to squint and hold her hand over her eyes to shade out the glaringly bright sun. She sat up on her elbows and languidly took in her tropical surroundings.

"I'd say you earned yourself some vacation time by now."

Buffy froze when she heard the familiar husky rasp so close. Turning to the right, she couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her lips when she saw her lover lounging on the beach blanket parallel to her. Faith reclined on the soft, hot sand in a small two-piece bikini that hid little of her slender, sleek body. The white material contrasted alluringly with her lightly bronzed skin tone.

"Dying twice and now _this?" _The Boston girl clucked her tongue against the roof of her tongue and smiled. "You always had a way with the dramatics, Twinkie," she winked.

Buffy allowed herself to drink in the gently defined abdominal muscles exposed by the bifurcated bathing suit. The olive-tinted skin seemed to flow for miles upon miles, the perfection marred only by the ugly scar across her stomach. The thin scar tissue looked like a long piece of pink ribbon without the ordinary smooth envelope of tender flesh that most girls take for granted and even rail against when there's too much.

"You just gonna sit there and ogle the goodies, B?"

"Where are we?" the blonde woman finally asked, shaking her head, but not tearing her eyes from the other woman's dangerous curves.

"Wherever you wanna be, Peanut," Faith answered with a small shrug. "I don't make the rules. I just make guest appearances when you need me the most." She looked down at her outfit. "Can't say I disapprove of your choice of ensembles, though. I look smokin' hot."

Buffy narrowed her eyes and knit her eyebrows together in thought. "Am I dreaming?" she asked. "The last thing I remember…" she trailed off, thinking hard.

"…is your 'loyal' Scoobies fighting about re-opening the Hellmouth," Faith finished for her. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Yeah, I remember that too."

Buffy sat up fully and grabbed for Faith's hand. She gently brushed away a few grains of gritty sand from the dark slayer's palm and stared hard into her deep, pooling chocolate-colored eyes.

"It's not because it's _you_," she insisted softly. "They're just being careful with the no-magic and all. Who knows what could happen if we opened the Hellmouth again."

Faith looked down at their enjoined hands. "Then how come _you're_ so cavalier about re-poppin' the Hellmouth's cork?" she asked.

Buffy tightened her grip on her sister-Slayer's hand. "Because I care about _you _more than I do the Future," she answered honestly.

Faith reached up with her free hand and gently brushed her thumb along the blonde's delicate jaw-line. "B…Buffy," she murmured, letting herself drown in the green sea of Buffy's shimmering eyes. "Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin', baby?"

Buffy brought the dark-haired woman's hand to her lips and softly kissed her knuckles. "If you mean that _I Love You_, then yes...that's what I'm saying." The elder slayer couldn't help the tears that suddenly brimmed in her eyes.

She had waited until it was too late to admit her love for the other woman. Now Faith was in Hell, no doubt suffering unimaginable torture without the personal solace that Buffy had loved her all along. The blonde wasn't delusional enough to actually believe that the bikini-clad figure before her was the woman she loved. But she would do for now.

Emboldened by an unknown force, the golden-haired slayer left her blanket and crept on her knees across the short sandy strip that separated her from her brunette lover. She crawled on top of the Bostonian's reclined form, straddling her barely-clothed body between her sculpted thighs.

"Woah there, B," the dark slayer lightly protested with a small smirk across her lips. "Whatcha think you're doing? I don't wanna get sand in awkward places, ya know…. It gets in all the cracks."

The blonde momentarily peered down at the woman between her thighs with a confused and hurt expression marring her angelic features. Faith quickly backpedaled to avoid any further miscommunication or misunderstandings between herself and the other woman. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just meant…not here."

The Boston-born slayer sat up on her beach blanket and gently pressed her full lips against her blonde lover's pursed mouth. "Stand up, Buffy," she softly implored after pulling back from the brief embrace.

Buffy obediently leaned back and stood up from her crouched position. The dark-haired woman's chocolate eyes now twinkled with something that mirrored mischief. Faith popped to her feet, mindful not to move too quickly, lest her full breasts dislodge themselves from the small, white bikini top. Wordlessly she bent and scooped up the smaller slayer into her capable arms.

"What are you doing?" Buffy demanded, her voice lined with nervous energy.

Faith planted a final kiss at the end of the blonde woman's slight upturned nose before running at full speed toward the shoreline, the younger slayer still clinging tightly against her. Buffy squealed in protest, knowing all too well what the Boston girl had planned for her.

The blonde gasped and sputtered when she felt the chill of the ocean water invade her sun-kissed skin. She stood up in the water and haphazardly wiped at her loose blonde locks that were now plastered against the front of her forehead. The ocean water came just up to her exposed belly button. Small waves crashed up against the bare skin of her bikinied form, causing her to squeak slightly with every movement of the tide.

"You-you-you," she sputtered, uselessly spitting out the sea salt in her mouth.

The Boston girl gave Buffy a lopsided grin before diving under an incoming wave. When she resurfaced, she flipped her now-drenched dark tresses backwards, causing her chest to jut out obscenely. The thin material of her slight bathing suit struggled to contain the healthy globes of flesh.

Faith squatted and sank deeper into the ocean, letting the water level lightly lap against the bottom of her chin. She flashed the small blonde another devastating grin and started to sing the theme to _Jaws._

"Duh-Dun. Duh-Dun. Dun-Duh-Dun-Duh-Dun-Duh."

Buffy's eyes went wide and she pointed accusingly at the other girl who had begun to slowly creep closer in the water. "Don't you _dare _come any closer."

Faith stood up fully in the water and stuck her bottom lip out in a tantalizing pout. "Awww…c'mon, baby," she whined. "You're no fun."

Despite her anger at the other woman for unceremoniously dumping her into the ocean's depths, her eyes betrayed her brain as they raked over her lover's disciplined form. The thin white material clung desperately from the Boston girl's curves, seemingly defying gravity as they held the perky breasts in place. Thin lines of ocean water dribbled down her damp olive-tinted flesh, disappearing to find a new home between the brunette woman's cleavage. Faith's taunt nipples poked through the flimsy material, evidence of the water's chilled temperature and her own quickly escalading arousal.

The elder slayer's gawking did not go unnoticed by the Boston girl who leered in return. "Like whatcha see, baby?" she purred. Faith glided closer through the water towards her lover.

Faith crept close enough so that her full breasts brushed against the blonde's chilled body. She spread her wet palms flat on the shorter woman's thin arms and ran them the length of her limbs, up to her shoulders. Buffy remained frozen in her spot as if afraid any movement might discourage the younger slayer.

With a smug smile on her face, the Bostonian reached behind the blonde's neck and deftly unfastened the ties that held her bikini top in place. Buffy felt her breath hitch in her throat when the dangerous slayer reached underneath the loose garment and palmed her breasts. The blonde's nipples were like small, hard pebbles in the other girl's hands.

Faith dipped her head down and captured a chilled, taunt nipple between her lips. Buffy groaned, feeling the warmth of her lover's mouth envelop the sensitive bud. The dark-haired woman lashed the tip of her tongue against the tiny rock of flesh, smiling around the other girl's breast when she felt Buffy's body stiffen in anticipation.

Releasing the blonde girl's breasts, the rogue slayer gave a new command: "Up," Faith instructed.

Jumping up in the water, the small blonde obediently wrapped her slender legs around the Boston girl's slight waist. Even without Slayer-strength the ocean water made her buoyant enough to not physically strain her lover. Reaching between their bodies, Faith slid a hand down the front of the elder slayer's small bikini bottoms. Her strong fingers glided easily over the smooth, shaved lips before expertly dipping between the fleshy folds. Buffy tightened her legs around her lover's narrow waist, wordlessly encouraging the other woman.

Faith groaned lowly, able to feel the blonde woman's arousal even in the ocean. "You always feel so good," she moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head a little with the sensations.

Buffy whimpered and repositioned herself, granting the Boston-born slayer easier access to her waiting sex. "I need to feel you inside me," she panted desperately.

Eagerly giving in to the smaller woman's desires, Faith slid her forefinger into her lover's sex. The two groaned simultaneously when the younger woman bottomed out, her hand bumping roughly against Buffy's sensitive clit.

"Fuck," Faith groaned. "You're so wet and ready for me, B."

Buffy grinned mockingly. "Well it _is _the ocean, Einstein."

Faith thrust harder into the blonde girl in response, silencing any further retorts. The Boston girl gave the elder woman a sardonic smile of her own. "Ya like my fingers inside ya, B? Does it feel good?" she lightly taunted. "Me fucking you like this?"

A small gurgle in response bubbled up the Californian's throat. "Oh God, yes," she choked out.

Without warning, the raven-haired slayer stilled her movements inside the elder woman, causing Buffy to cry out in protest. "No!" she cried. "Don't stop! Please, don't stop, Faith!"

"If you want it," the taller girl drawled slowly, not moving her fingers, but keeping them buried inside her lover's hot pussy, "you're gonna have to fuck yourself on my hand, baby."

Buffy's eyes widened in realization.

"Uh, huh," Faith confirmed the blonde's silent lament. "You know how to do it, baby. _Just ride me."_

Buffy bit her bottom lip, worrying the tender flesh. This was new territory for her, but her need was too great to ignore her lover's commands. Using the water and her strong thighs to her advantage, Buffy slowly inched her way up the Boston-girl's rigid fingers, allowing her pussy to slip up until her lover's digits just barely penetrated her sex.

Faith groaned almost inaudibly. "Yes…uhn. Just like that, baby," she panted. "You know what to do."

Buffy released a tortured whimper as she slowly lowered herself back down on Faith's waiting fingers, feeling them fill and stretch her. She tightened her thighs around the Boston-born slayer's body, pulling the girl's fingers even deeper into her sex.

Buffy raked her trimmed fingernails down the Boston girl's toned back and stopped when she reached the hook and eye fasten of the brunette woman's bikini top. Haphazardly attacking the fasten, she wretched the thin material off of her lover's curvaceous form and moaned loudly when she felt her nipples brush against the other girl's tight breasts. Electric shocks seemed to pulse through her body feeling the rubbing of flesh on flesh.

Emboldened by her lover's quiet encouragements, combined with her own need to orgasm, the small Californian began to fall into a rhythm, picking up the pace as she lifted her form up and off of the Boston girl's tense fingers only to plunge herself back down upon them. Again and again Faith's fingers filled and penetrated her tender sex.

"Yes, baby. Just like that," Faith encouraged. "God, B. Make yourself cum all over my fingers."

The water around their enjoined bodies splashed violently as Buffy continued to rapidly piston her slight form up and down, bouncing herself on the other woman's hand. Feeling the familiar clenching and spasms, Faith helped her lover along by brushing the calloused pad of her thumb against the blonde's throbbing clit.

Buffy cried out loudly when the Boston girl's thumb made contact. She threw her arms more solidly around her lover's neck and clamped her eyes shut tightly. ". ," she chanted, not missing a beat.

A tortured cry bubbled out of the blonde's delicate throat as she felt her world crash around her. Her sex seized up around the Boston girl's rigid digits and she dug her own heels and fingernails into her lover's soft flesh. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming," she announced. The dark slayer whispered words of love and encouragement into the elder woman's ear, helping prolong her pleasure.

Finally, when she felt the other woman's body relax, Faith slowly and carefully slid her fingers out of Buffy's bikini bottoms. She continued to hold onto her lover, whose legs remained tightly clamped around her form as well. The two sighed simultaneously and touched their foreheads together, neither wanting the moment to end.

Faith watched a small hermit crab scuttle across the sand. Its detached eyeballs seemed to dart around nervously, cautiously taking in its surroundings and staying alert for potential enemies. The small creature's claws worked busily and efficiently as it rummaged through the bits of rock and sand, scrounging for food.

The Boston girl frowned as she mused about how similar Buffy was to this small sea animal. Crabs were so deceptively defensive. Even with their giant, menacing claws, whenever threatened the small creature would retreat into its shell for safety and protection. And whenever life got too difficult for Buffy, she retreated into her own shell as well. And lately that shell had been these dreams. As much as the dark-haired slayer loved the Californian, as much as she wanted to remain with her, Faith knew it was unhealthy and dangerous for the blonde woman to have a release such as this.

With a wistful sigh, Faith looked back up at her lover who remained asleep on her beach blanket. The sun was no longer high in the sky, indicating the late hour.

The two had made love on the isolated beach all afternoon, no longer concerned about sand creeping into all the cracks.

"Time to wake up, Princess." Faith tapped the tip of her finger softly against the small woman's unlined forehead. "It's time to face reality."

Although the small slayer hadn't wanted to waste any time she had with her lover – their time together was always too limited for the Californian – she had fallen asleep soon after laying back down on the beach to let the scorching-hot sun dry their damp bodies.

"Don't wanna…" she murmured, willing the gentle crashing of ocean waves to lull her back to sleep. Buffy's eyes softly fluttered open when she felt Faith's breath hot against her face. She opened her eyes fully to find Faith gazing intently upon her, the sadness apparent in the Boston girl's features.

"Time to go," the raven-haired woman repeated quietly.

The blonde sat up from her blanket and threw her arms around the brunette girl's neck. "Don't make me," she groaned into the salty skin. "Why can't I just stay here with you? I miss the sunshine," she struggled for excuses. "It rains so much in Scotland."

"Baby," Faith lightly scolded as she nuzzled her nose into the other girl's neck and inhaled sadly. "Think about your friends…your family…. Everyone's worried."

The blonde woman pulled back from Faith's embrace and scowled. "They tore me out of Heaven once before and now you want them to do it _again_?"

"Is that what you think this is, B?" the dark girl raised an amused eyebrow. "Heaven?"

"Heaven's only Heaven if you're there, Slayer," the Californian told her lover before pulling her down for another kiss.

Buffy fell forward suddenly when her dark-haired lover disappeared. When just seconds previously, the Californian slayer had held her soft, pliable flesh in her arms, now there was nothing. The blonde woman suddenly found herself alone on the beach with the sun starting to sink into the horizon. She still didn't know where she was or why she was here. Was she dreaming? Was she dead?

The slayer peered into the distance, hoping to find where the Boston girl had disappeared to. Faith had never disappeared so suddenly from one of Buffy's hallucinatory dreams before. The girl scrambled to her feet when she saw a large dark form near the water's edge. Walking cautiously closer to the ocean's edge, she could just make out a large mass moving back and forth with the rise and fall of the early evening tide. Something had washed ashore.

Buffy audibly gasped and brought a hand to her mouth when she recognized just what had washed up on the beach. A human body. Satsu. The former slayer's face was nearly indistinguishable. The ocean water had saturated the young woman's body, causing obscene bloating. Seaweed tangled in her short, jet-black hair and her eyelids remained closed as if the Asian girl was merely sleeping.

Buffy knelt down on the hardened sand, not caring that the cool ocean water smashed into her bare skin, nor caring that her legs were now caked in wet sand. The Californian reached out a tentative hand. She knew it wasn't really Satsu; she reminded herself that she wasn't in the real world and that Satsu….hadn't died this way. Buffy touched the cool skin of Satsu's cheek with the tips of her fingers, but quickly recoiled when Satsu's lifeless eyes snapped open. Buffy could see her own horrified reaction reflect off the pitch-blackness of the dead slayer's eyes.

Buffy's eyes fluttered open slowly. The slow rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor echoed in the barren hospital room.

"Faith?" she called out, unsure if she was still dreaming or not. The blonde squinted into the harsh overhead lighting of the room. "Faith? Where am I?" she asked. Her voice sounded rough as though her vocal chords were full of gravel.

"Buffy," called a voice from the far corner of the blindingly white room. "Buffy." It was Dawn. She repeated the name, relief dripping from the syllables. "You're awake."

"Where am I?" Buffy asked again.

"You-you had a seizure," Dawn whispered from her corner in the hospital room. "They weren't sure you were going to wake up."

"Where am I?" the blonde repeated, this time a little louder. Her vocal chords felt tired as though she had been screaming non-stop. She looked around the barren room as she continued to recline flat on her back, unable to move, she discovered, without much effort.

"Edinburgh General," Dawn sighed and bit her bottom lip. "When you collapsed," she continued, "Giles drove you here as fast as his little tin can of a car would drive. Luckily the hospital has a generator. It seems like the power's out nearly everywhere on the island."

Buffy gingerly began to sit up and Dawn rushed over to the bedside to help her. The teen hit the call button to let the hospital staff know her sister was finally awake.

"Dawnie…What happened?" Buffy asked, the panic rising in her voice. She struggled to tug at the IV secured to the inside of her right arm and winced when she wretched it free from her tender flesh. "What's wrong with me?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing severely.

Dawn shook her head sadly. "We don't know yet," she admitted. "The doctors wanted to wait to…" she choked on the words and quickly wiped at her tired-looking eyes, "…to see if you would _wake up_ before they did anymore tests."

"Where is everyone?" the blonde rasped, looking around her sparse hospital room once again. The two Summers girls were alone save the medical machines that cluttered the small space.

"Giles, Willow, and Xander just left to grab some food in the hospital cafeteria," the teen explained. Dawn helped the small blonde rearrange the large white pillow behind her back so that she could sit up more easily without jostling the various tubes and IVs sticking out of her body. "They've been awake with me all night."

"What about the others?" Buffy asked pointedly.

"You mean Robin and Riley?" Dawn hesitated when she saw her sister nod. "They left, Buffy. Back to the States, I suppose."

A doctor noisily strode into the room, interrupting the two sisters' conversation. "Well, good morning, Miss Summers," the balding man smiled. "The other Miss Summers," he nodded in Dawn's direction.

"Morning, Doctor Hansen," the teenager solemnly greeted.

He adjusted the stethoscope dangling around his neck. "I'm glad you're awake," he began. "Now we can concern ourselves with figuring out what caused your seizure. Generally these things are the product of a brain aneurism or blood clot, but the brain is a delicate and mysterious organ so it could be a number of things."

He consulted the metal clipboard in his hands and scribbled down a note for himself. "I'm going to order you an MRI right away," he announced, "and we'll start with that." He looked up from his clipboard and smiled kindly at the two girls. "Do either of you have any questions for me before we move forward?"

A thought flashed into Buffy's mind. "My mom," she blurted out suddenly. "…our mom," she corrected herself as she looked at her younger sister. "She-she died of a brain aneurism. Could that be genetic?"

Dr. Hansen frowned briefly and looked between the two girls. "The genetic link is not completely understood, Miss Summers," he noted. "But, having said that, studies _have_ shown a strong link to family history. If an immediate family member suffered an aneurysm, you are four times more likely to have one as well."

At the doctor's words, Dawn bit her bottom lip hard to stifle the sob that threatened to bubble to her mouth. Large, salty tears flowed unobstructed down her high cheekbones. She had lost her mother too soon. She couldn't lose Buffy this way too.

The veteran doctor sensed the younger woman's emotional up swell. "Let's not assume anything at this point, however," he gently insisted. "We'll take a few pictures first and then we'll go from there."

The blonde lay flat on her back on the cold sterile raised platform just outside the mouth of the MRI machine. The technician had placed a thin blanket on the bed for her comfort, but it did nothing to halt the chill that raked her thin bones. She could feel her heart thumping inside her chest as she stared at the nondescript ceiling, growing more restless as each minute passed.

Buffy had never liked hospitals. Not when she was a child. Not when her mother was sick. And definitely not now that she was about to be shoved into a tiny tube and have pictures taken of her brain.

Although her mind was preoccupied with loathing thoughts concerning hospitals, she suddenly became aware of another body in the room. Faith had appeared once again, unannounced and seemingly unprovoked. Her white bikini had been traded in for tight, dark blue jeans and a form-fitting t-shirt that spread tight across her generous chest.

"You're back," Buffy stated, more a question than an observation looking up and over at her lost lover.

"Never left ya, Blondie," the dark woman replied huskily as she stepped closer to the bed.

Buffy turned her head to look at the Boston slayer. Her brown eyes dripped with concern and compassion.

"Hold my hand?" Buffy implored. Her voice sounded small and lost.

Faith nodded gravely. "I'll hold on as long as I can, B."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The dark-haired woman stalked in a circular pattern, cautiously eyeballing her enemy and potential prey. Her heavy boots sounded hollow against the solid parched earth. The red-skinned demon crept equally careful, fully aware of the woman's power and unpredictability. Most of the mystical creatures now trapped in the Hellmouth avoided the Slayer, but this specific monster had sought her out.

"Just think about it, Slayer," the demonic figure growled lowly. Its deep voice reverberated in its throat as though purring. "No one down here is on your side. You need allies, or you'll soon be outnumbered and brutally slain." The creature paused long enough to smile cruelly, its yellow teeth like shards of glass in the wide mouth. "And believe me when I tell you that my brethren will not be as judicial as I am when it comes to hunting you down."

"Hate to burst your bubble," the brunette snarled, "but I never did learn to play well with others." The dangerous woman clenched her fist more tightly around the wooden handle of the Slayer scythe – the one object from her former life that had somehow managed to find its way to her in this cursed dimension.

Without warning, using one broad swipe like a farmer harvesting wheat, the Boston girl decapitated the offensive demon. She pursed her thick lips together as she watched the evil creature's head roll a few yards from her feet. Smiling sardonically, she cocked her right leg back slightly and kicked the detached globe as though it was a soccer ball. The head catapulted through the air before obscenely ricocheting off a series of jagged boulders and then disappearing from sight.

Faith looked back down at the recently deceased demon and unconsciously wet her lips. Grunting slightly from the weight, the dark slayer hefted the headless form over her shoulder and began to walk in the direction of the cave she had made into her semi-permanent shelter. Knowing that her movements could be monitored, she doubled-back to assure that she wasn't followed back to the hole she called Home.

Faith struggled to get a small fire sparked in the dark, dry cave. Normally she headed back to the rocky shelter at an earlier hour when the two suns were still bright in the sky, but tonight she struggled to find her fire-starter in the darkness of her hole. Having never been a Boy Scout – or a Girl Scout, for that matter – it had taken the Boston girl a few days to become somewhat consistent in her ability to build herself a campfire. With a mirthless grin, she inwardly chuckled at the irony of struggling to create a fire in Hell.

After stoking the flames to a slight blaze, the rogue woman, aided by the Slayer scythe, meticulously sliced away at the meatiest portions of the slain demon's legs, arms, and torso. She pulled the tough skin back, revealing the fleshiest portion of the creature. The campfire pierced through the ominous darkness of the cave and cast an eerie glow on her makeshift meal. As she held the dripping meat over the crackling fire, Faith wistfully dreamed of corn on the cob and watermelon. What she wouldn't do for a vegetable or piece of fruit.

Satisfied with the temperature of the cooked flesh, the Boston girl tore into the tough, gamey meat with her canines, shredding through the demon's body. She gingerly tossed what had formerly been the demon's arm back and forth between her fingers like a giant turkey leg, the hot juices threatening to burn the tips of her fingers. Faith hungrily sank her teeth into the smoky flesh and wiped the back of her hand across her face, smearing grease across her cheeks.

Even without inspecting herself in a mirror or even a reflective pool of water, Faith knew she was a sight – her hair matted from weeks of neglect, her clothing torn and soiled, her exposed flesh covered in demon blood and dust. But there was no one to impress in Hell. There was only survival.

With a stomach full of seared demon meat, the Boston girl laid down on the solid floor of her sheltering cave. She flipped onto her side in a useless attempt to find comfort. With the scythe still clenched firmly in one hand, a kind of safety blanket, Faith finally allowed herself to close her dark chocolate eyes, hoping to find rest; but the cries and screams of demons beyond the protective covering of her hidden cave caused her body to tense even more rigidly than it had been before.

Faith shut her eyes tightly and focused on the fading image of the woman she had loved for so long. While in her coma back in Sunnydale, she had thought of nothing but Buffy. When Faith had switched bodies with the blonde, she had stared at the familiar pert face in the bathroom mirror for hours. In prison she had centered her mind on the memory of the California slayer. And now in Hell, she sought solace through her memories of her former lover. Faith kept her eyes closed and held a hand over her exposed ear, hoping to shut out the Hell that waited beyond the walls of her sanctuary – willing that the night might soon be over.

The Scottish surgeon stood in the doorway of the Californian's hospital room holding onto a metal clipboard and looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Although the doctor was accustomed to doting and concerned patient-families, Buffy Summers' room always seemed excessively packed with anxious bodies. He coughed nervously and stepped into the room finally, acutely aware of the numerous pairs of eyes intensely scrutinizing his every move.

"Why does he have that look?" Willow blurted out anxiously. She twisted her hands in front of her body. "That doesn't look like a puppies and bunny-rabbits face," she worried out loud. "That looks like a 'we discovered you have an extra spleen' kind of face."

"Doctor?" Giles asked expectantly as he stood up from the uncomfortable chair near the broken slayer's bed.

Dr. Hansen took a deep breath. "I'm afraid it's cancer," the physician stated somberly, casting his eyes around the room.

The doctor paused momentarily, allowing his words to set in – news of this kind was what made his job so difficult. The English Watcher's face fell. Willow covered her mouth with both hands, holding back a small gasp. Xander closed his one good eye and set his mouth in a hard line. Dawn felt her chin begin to quiver out of control. And Buffy only felt numb.

Walking toward the walled light box, the doctor placed the film from the slayer's test results on the small screen and flipped on the lamp. "The MRI shows a sizable tumor here," he said, pointing to a spot on the x-ray. "It's a wonder that you didn't notice anything was wrong before the seizure, Miss Summers," he added, looking over at the bed-ridden girl. "The growth is pressing on your cerebrum and probably causing you to hallucinate, or at least cause you to question what's real and what's not."

"You mean like _all of this_ right now is just a bad dream?" the blonde slayer tried lightly. She smiled through parched, cracked lips.

The doctor smiled kindly at his patient in return. "No, Miss Summers. I can assure you that this is not a hallucination. This is very real. The good news is, however," he continued brightly, "that the tumor is completely operable; since we caught it before it had the opportunity to spread, there's a very good chance that I'll be able to remove all of the mass without causing injury to your frontal lobe."

Buffy's friends exploded in a brief chattering of relief at the doctor's words. Faith sat guiltily in one corner, however, her eyes never leaving the blonde. She had remained close to the golden-haired girl ever since her brain scan; but she remained invisible to them all, save the California slayer.

"This tumor," Buffy began hesitantly, flitting her eyes to the corner of the hospital room where the dark slayer remained stationary. "You mean it's making me see things that aren't really there?" she squeaked meekly. "Like…like maybe people?"

The doctor hesitated briefly before nodding. "As I've mentioned before, Miss Summers, the brain is a mysterious organ. There _is _a good chance that your tumor has been causing recent hallucinations – maybe seeing people from your past, for example. Or replaying memories, rather than experiencing the present." He glanced back down at his chart, momentarily dismissing his patient's question, before droning on about the details of the proposed brain surgery.

"Are we on _Melrose Place?"_ Faith appeared next to the small blonde's bedside and held her hand tightly.

Buffy gave her sister-Slayer a lopsided grin, despite her current situation and company. "Now's not the time for vague pop culture references, Fai," she mumbled under her breath.

"Aw, c'mon, B," the dark-haired woman breezed. "I bet you fuckin' loved that show. Or maybe _90210_ was more your style?"

"_Saved by the Bell _was more my style," the small blonde admitted with a slight blush.

Faith sat down at the edge of the other girl's hospital bed. "Oh yea," she laughed, squiggling on the stiff mattress to get more comfortable. "That _would _be your kinda show. Bet your panties got all wet thinkin' about Zach Morris or A.C. Slater," she cooed.

Buffy playfully slapped the other girl's arm. "Whatever," she giggled. "You must've been quite the fan yourself if you know their names," she pointed out.

Faith's grin spread wider across her beautiful face and swung her heavy-booted feet back and forth as they dangled over the edge of the hospital bed. "Busted," she chuckled.

While Willow, Xander, and Giles continued to listen intently to Dr. Hansen's speech concerning Buffy's brain surgery, the youngest Summers girl had turned her attention back to her bed-ridden sister. The teen's thin lips scrunched together when she noted the blonde woman talking to herself again like Dawn had witnessed her do immediately before her seizure in the castle's library.

Buffy sat up straighter in bed, ignoring everyone in the room besides her hallucination of Faith. "Oh!" she squealed brightly. "Do you remember the episode where Jessie was addicted to caffeine pills!"

The two gave each other knowing grins. "I'm so excited! I'm so….scared!" they sing-songed in unison before bursting into laughter.

Everyone in the room became suddenly quiet at Buffy's outburst.

Xander shuffled his feet against the scuffled linoleum floor. "When did this turn into an episode from _Saved by the Bell?_" he mumbled, looking uncomfortably at the blonde slayer.

Faith snorted and rolled his eyes at the former carpenter's reaction. "I betcha Xander had a massive hard-on for Slater, too."

"That's disgusting, Faith," the small blonde squeaked, wrinkling her nose.

"Buffy?" Willow said the name hesitantly, unsure why her best friend was talking to ghosts.

"She's not here, Buffy," Dawn stated quietly, suddenly understanding what was going on. She reached out to touch her sister's pale, thin wrist. "It's the tumor that's making you see things."

Xander's jaw dropped slightly. "You…you're think you're talking to Faith, don't you?" he inquired. "You think you can see her?"

Buffy's eyes snapped up from her wrist to stare into Dawn's tearful eyes. "She's here!" the blonde girl stated wildly. "I can touch her," she insisted, her hazel-green eyes flashing. "And she can touch me."

Giles shook his head hard and removed his glasses. He looked at his former slayer, the pity clearly written across his time-wizened features. "Buffy. Faith is gone," he stated somberly. "Your brain tumor's making you believe you can see her."

Buffy's eyes went wide with realization. "So that means…if-if I have the tumor removed…" she stammered, trailing off, "I'll lose her again."

Dawn clenched her fists around the hospital bed's railing and gave the furniture a shake, causing a small tremor to waver down the metal frame. "Buffy!" she yelled. "You can't be suggesting what I think you are!" the girl exclaimed loudly, horrified by the thought.

Buffy gave her friends a manic look and began clawing at the tubes and wires that connected her to the hospital machines as if attempting to escape from the bed. "No!" she cried. "I won't lose her again," she sobbed. Heavy tears flowed freely down her slightly bronzed features.

Giles crossed his arms across his chest. His facial features were set in a look of determination. "This isn't up for debate, Buffy," the English man stated seriously. "You're having the operation."

A handful of attendants wheeled Buffy's bed down the long, sterile hallway and towards the large service elevator that would take her to surgery. Buffy squinted up at the white ceiling, wincing as the halogen lights flashed by. Her eyes felt assaulted by the harsh overhead lighting.

"It's for the best, B," the dark slayer mumbled unemotionally. Faith walked alongside the squeaking bed, her hands shoved deep into her pockets.

"I can't lose you, Fai," the heavily sedated blonde muttered into the air.

Buffy attempted to reached out, hoping to touch her lover one last time. But her attempt proved useless as she discovered her wrists had been bound to the portable bed. A single tear escaped down her bronzed cheek as the elevator doors closed and Faith disappeared from her line of sight.

"Well this looks cozy," the dark-haired woman mumbled, dropping a small backpack onto the well-worn wooden floor.

Faith found herself in a small, one room log cabin located in the center of a dense forest. Although the dark-haired girl assumed she was making another Buffy-dream appearance, the blonde was nowhere in sight. Generally the two slayers simultaneously arrived at these shared locations, but lately the dreams had become increasingly unpredictable.

Walking into the center of the small space, the Boston woman took stock of her surroundings. In the far corner sat a well-loved wooden futon frame covered with a thin black mattress. Miss-matched throw pillows covered the paltry cushioning and a crocheted blanket lay across the back of the seating. Along the opposite wall was a small wood-burning fireplace, surrounded by a rocky hearth. A tiny set of pine cupboards adorned another wall, flanked by a foldable table and chair set, large enough for two. A thin, thread-barren space rug struggled to cover the center of the room, barely covering the smooth, wooden planks beneath.

Knowing that her lover was currently in brain surgery, the dark brunette girl frowned. Perhaps this was her own brand of hallucination. Faith's chocolate irises clouded over with disappointment, her dilapidated surroundings beginning to make more sense. While Buffy's dream-state earned them the right to lounge on exotic beaches, the Boston girl had to settle for unimpressive isolated cabins instead.

Feeling slightly chilled and noting the sun dipping lower in the horizon as she glanced through the single-paned glass window, Faith made her way over to the natural fireplace and dutifully assembled what she needed to build a fire. Luckily this dream-state was detail-oriented enough to provide her with kindling and dry firewood.

Faith focused on the habitual task of constructing a fire when a small gasp alerted the Boston girl that she was no longer alone in the barren cabin.

Buffy dropped her own backpack onto the floor next to the dark slayer's seemingly forgotten bag. She rushed toward the crouched slayer, throwing her arms around her neck. The blonde immediately buried her face into the dark woman's chocolate tresses and breathed in deeply. "You're here," she breathed. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Faith stood up from her crouched position by the fireplace, still holding tight to the smaller blonde. "I told ya, baby," she mumbled roughly into the other girl's soft skin. "I'll hold on as long as I can."

Buffy pulled back from her lover's soft embrace. "I'm in surgery now, aren't I?" she stated, her voice flat and unaffected.

Her younger counterpart nodded darkly. "They're just doing what they think is best, baby. Don't be angry at them."

The small blonde retreated from her lover to sit down haltingly on the futon. The makeshift couch creaked under her slight weight. "I told them I didn't want the surgery," she whispered roughly, looking down at the floor. "I won't lose you again. I won't."

Faith strode across the room, quickly closing the distance between herself and the elder woman. She sat down heavily next to the other woman and grasped her small hands in her own. "Do you hear yourself, Buffy?" she stated, her voice sounding almost angry. "Refusing _cancer treatment_ just so you can hallucinate that I'm still there?"

Without warning, Buffy crashed her lips against the Boston girl's open mouth. Faith released a moan of surprise, the sound muffled by the elder slayer's sudden embrace. The blonde haired girl ran the palms of her hands down the younger woman's sides, relishing in the gentle curves of her lover's female flesh. Buffy flicked the tip of her tongue against the raven-haired beauty's thick bottom lip, pausing long enough to run her tongue across the deep divot in her plush lips. The Californian pushed her tongue past the perfectly pliable mouth and brushed along the white teeth, requesting deeper access.

Faith abruptly pulled away, still holding tightly onto the elder woman's hands. "Buffy," she breathed heavily, the desperation and frustration dripping from the one word. "This isn't how it's supposed to be."

The blonde woman cocked an eyebrow at her lover. Her own skin looked pink and flushed. "How it's supposed to be?" she repeated questioningly. "Did The Lesbians change how we do this since I've been hospitalized?"

The Boston girl ignored the other woman's attempt at humor and instead looked away as her eyes clouded over with darkness. "I'm in Hell, B," she stated thickly. "I don't deserve to be here with you."

Buffy brought her sister-Slayer's hands to her pursed lips and lightly brushed her mouth against the soft, perfumed skin. She hushed the other woman. "Stop it," she mumbled. "This is supposed to be a happy dream for us both."

The raven-haired beauty closed her eyes at the gentle touch. Nothing was soft in her world anymore. "There's a reason why I'm trapped in the Hellmouth and not in Scotland with you," Faith frowned.

The smaller slayer's eyes narrowed slightly. "Because you sacrificed it all to save the world, Fai," she insisted intensely. "You're not in Hell because you deserve to be there."

Faith squeezed her eyes shut tightly in an attempt to hold back the liquid sorrow she felt beginning to seep from her tear ducts. Sensing her lover's pain, Buffy brought a hand to the younger woman's face. She ran the back of her fingers across her partner's chiseled cheekbones, causing the other girl's tensed face to visibly relax. Buffy wrapped her free arm around the Boston girl's midsection and began a slow, rhythmic rock to sooth the girl.

"You're not in Hell," Buffy murmured again, placing a soft kiss near the brunette's temple. "You're right here with me."

The sound of a slow, steady beeping of a heart-monitor filled the quiet of the hospital evening.

"The next few hours will be crucial," Dr. Hansen rasped to the others. His eyes looked tired and his voice sounded worn and drained. Since the California girl's hospitalization, he had taken little time to sleep.

Dawn stood by her sister's bedside and gazed down at the peacefully sleeping girl. Buffy's chest rose and fell with each even, shallow breath beneath the thin hospital blankets. "She looks so small," she stated in a low, hushed voice. "So…fragile."

The English Watcher nodded in agreement. "So…human," Giles sighed deeply, removing his glasses from his face to wipe at the lenses with the bottom of his argyle sweater.

Faith carefully shoveled the hot embers out onto the stone hearth. Arranging the glowing coals into a tidy lump, she sprinkled a thin layer of ash over the tops of the smoldering wood chunks to keep the food from cooking too quickly and burning. Upon waking, the Boston girl had rummaged through the sparse cabin cupboards and found a box of unopened pancake mix. Although the previous evening had sated one kind of 'H' , the rumbling of her stomach indicated a new "H" word that needed to be addressed.

From her position on the foldout bed, the small blonde uncurled her svelte form and stretched from her head to her toes. The futon groaned beneath her body and small squeaking noises escaped from between her two lips.

Faith grinned at the small noises the other slayer emitted in her stretch. "Is that a baby pterodactyl over there, B?" she teased, not looking up from the heavy cast-iron skillet in front of her. She poured a generous amount of the pancake batter into the pan and grinned when she heard the telltale sizzling.

The small blonde swung her feet over the edge of the worn futon and landed her bare feet soundly on the ancient wooden flooring. She hopped out of bed with a solid thud and creaked her way across the small cabin towards her lover. Although she had wanted to remain in bed for a few hours longer with her Boston lover, pancakes and a half-dressed beautiful girl were enough to pull the elder slayer from the lumpy futon mattress.

Buffy played with the bottom hem of her small t-shirt and looked admiringly down at her crouched partner. Faith hovered over the cooking pan, wearing only a white tank top and panties. "Pancakes, huh?" the blonde smiled. "That's a pretty impressive trick," she nodded toward the cast-iron pot and hot coals configuration.

Faith shrugged nonchalantly. "Guess I lived in the 1700s in a past life or something."

Distracted by a thought other than breakfast foods and half-naked women, Buffy bit down on her bottom lip and worried the flesh. "Not that I'm complaining," she started, clearing her throat slightly before continuing, "but…" she trailed off, hesitatingly, "why am I still here? Isn't this normally the time you or I go back to the real world?"

Faith looked up from the perfectly round pancakes sizzling on the open hearth. She chuckled under her breath. "I know, right? We get all the pussy we can handle and then we disappear. Ya gotta admit, B. The PTB or whoever keep yankin' us around certainly are fans of letting us 'get some and get gone.'" She stood up from her crouched position and stretched out her long, naked legs. "You thinkin' this is a more permanent situation or somethin'?" she asked.

Buffy's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you think I'm dead?"

The two men stared through the window and into the Intensive Care Unit. Neither man looked particularly optimistic as they each gazed upon the form of the blonde slayer. Various tubes, IVs, and wires sprouted from the Californian's body, connecting her to a variety of hospital life-support machines.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Giles," the doctor began. "I just can't explain it. Buffy seems like a perfectly healthy young woman – barring the cancer, of course," Dr. Hansen clarified. "She _should _be bouncing back from her operation much better."

The balding Scottish man shook his head in frustration and continued. "I've never seen an immune system as weak as hers appears to be. Actually," he corrected himself, "I have, but in patients who have HIV whose immune system has been ravaged by the disease." He furrowed his high forehead in thought. "Clearly that's not what's going on here," he noted, "but it's as if her body never had to fight infection or a virus for the past decade."

Giles continued to stare at his former slayer, who now seemed asleep in the hospital bed. "What do we do now?" he asked, never taking his eyes off of the broken woman.

"We wait," the doctor stated, looking down at his metal clipboard. "It's all you can do at this point. I'll be in touch if there are any sizeable changes you need to be made aware of." He paused before leaving the former Watcher's side. "Mr. Giles," he hesitated. "If you believe in…a Higher Power…you may want to consider praying for Miss Summer's recovery."

Giles finally looked away from his former charge and nodded curtly in the direction of the doctor. He understood what the surgeon was trying to tell him. His Slayer might be too far-gone to save. Giles sighed deeply and placed his palm against the windowpane that separated him from the sleeping blonde woman.

A bitter female voice startled the English man: "So what – she sacrifices everything to save the world time and again, and this is how we thank her? By letting her _die_?"

Giles turned on his heels. "Dawn," he sighed, readjusted the glasses on his nose. "Nothing says she won't recover from this. We just have to be patient and wait it out."

"No!" the young woman protested animatedly. "I refuse to accept that, Giles. There's no time to just wait around and see if she's going to get better. She _won't _recover from this," Dawn insisted, her voice raising a few octaves in her desperation. "She _needs _her Slaying-strength back. If she was a Slayer," the former Key pointed out, "she would have been out of this hospital by now!"

The English Watcher pressed his lips together, forming a hard line as he stared at the young woman, but he remained silent.

"Giles," the slender teen continued to rant, her body shaking from the intensity of feelings rushing through her tall form. "You know what we have to do." The youngest Summers girl's eyes looked dark and frantic. "_We have to open the Hellmouth, _Giles.It's the only way she'll survive."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

When Willow looked up and saw the brooding form standing in front of her, she couldn't hold back the snicker that escaped her mouth. "Nice sunglasses."

The jaded girl sighed and removed the dark glasses, revealing a swollen bruise across the bridge of her nose. She rubbed anxiously at the purple and yellowed skin. "It's times like this I miss Slayer healing," she complained bitterly.

The redheaded former witch sat alone in the hospital cafeteria at a small circular table for two. After checking in with Giles and Dawn, both of whom refused to leave Buffy's bedside in the Intensive Care Unit, she had wandered up to the tenth floor in search of sub-par hospital food.

"For a little thing, she sure packs a wallop, huh?" Willow mused, referring to Buffy having recently introduced her fist to Kennedy's face.

The dark haired former slayer made a face and rested her hands on her hips, clearly still psychologically wounded from being put in her place by the small Californian.

"Yeah, well," she muttered sourly, "she just caught me off-guard is all."

"After all that, I can't believe you actually showed up here," Willow breathed, clearly impressed.

"Of course I came." Kennedy gave the redhead a small smile and sat down in the chair across from her at the small cafeteria table. "Buffy and I may have had our arguments in the past," Kennedy remarked, "but she's your best friend, baby. I'd never abandon you like that."

Willow reached across the table and grabbed her partner's hands with her own. "It means a lot having you here," she said softly, her wet eyes shimmering with appreciation.

"I know this has got to be hard for you, babe," Kennedy started genuinely. A strange smile fluttered to her lips and her dark eyes twinkled mischievously. "I mean, especially with Buffy being your first love and all."

Willow's eyes went wide. "Wha-what?" she stuttered. "Where did you get that from?" she demanded.

The dark-haired girl gave her lover a snarky grin. "Oh c'mon, Will," she smiled, patting her girlfriend's hand. "I always knew Tara wasn't really your _first love. _It was Buffy, wasn't it?"

Willow averted her gaze, feeling her face growing increasingly red with embarrassment. Kennedy gave the former witch a goofy grin, to show her girlfriend she wasn't jealous. "Plus," Kennedy chuckled, "she's hot, and I always get a little sad when hot chicks are ill."

Willow released her girlfriend's warm hands and gasped playfully. "Kennedy!" she scolded, leaning back in her chair. "You're horrible." The two shared a smile and then fell into a comfortable silence.

"So how bad is she?" Kennedy asked softly, changing the subject.

Willow bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that always seemed to immediately swell when she thought about the blonde slayer's current condition.

"She's asleep," the redhead rasped, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hands. The tears felt hot and wet on her pale skin.

Kennedy dropped her head. "She's in a coma, you mean," she clarified, her voice low and serious.

Willow breathed in hard, her tears causing her sinuses to become congested. "The doctors don't know when or if she's going to wake up," she managed to choke out. "Her immune system…it's – it's just too weak." She sighed thoughtfully. "Being a Slayer made her weak."

Kennedy let her gaze fall down to the table. "I'm sorry, baby," she mumbled. "I wish I could do something to help."

The redhead sighed sadly and rested her head in her hands. "I just wish…" she murmured. "If I only had a _little _power, I could help her." The girl dropped her hands to the table and picked up her forgotten coffee cup. "I-I just feel so useless, Ken."

"What's it like?" Kennedy asked, absentmindedly picking up a burnt French fry from her girlfriend's food tray and then tossing it back on the discarded plate. The witch had barely touched any of her chicken strips and fries. "I mean, what's it like being without Magic?" the dark-haired girl questioned. "I wasn't really a Slayer for that long…but you, Wills – you gotta be going through some major withdrawls there."

Willow's face slightly fell into a small frown and she tightened her grasp on the ceramic coffee mug. "It's not so bad," she lied.

The brunette woman stood on the small covered porch, looking wistfully out and into the morning drizzle. She cupped a mug of hot black coffee between her hands. Feeling the brisk morning breeze flutter around her, she shivered slightly and pulled her bathrobe tighter around her curvy form. It had rained nonstop the past few days, effectively keeping the two slayers captive inside their isolated cabin – not that either woman minded at all, however.

Faith tensed slightly when she felt the strong hands snake around her waist, effortlessly easing themselves into the confines of her loose robe. Her body relaxed however upon recognizing the gentle hum echoing around her body and the clean scent of vanilla. The blonde slayer always smelled like freshly baked cookies.

"What is it, baby?" the blonde asked, resting her chin on top of the Boston girl's strong shoulder. "Why so pensive?"

"Something feels different," Faith mumbled, still looking darkly into the distance. She took a sip from the hot brew in her mug. "I can't put my finger on it, but it feels like something's about to change."

"The weather?" Buffy suggested lightly, subtly tugging at the sash tied securely around the dark slayer's lithe waist. "Think we might get beach weather again soon? I really need a tan."

Faith smiled despite her misgivings about the strange sensations floating around her body. She grasped onto one of Buffy's hands that had innocently slid inside the front of the dark-haired woman's robe. "You gonna wear that hot little bikini for me again, babe?" she purred mischievously.

Buffy tightened her embrace around her taller lover's waist. "Was kinda thinking about _not_ _wearing_ a bathing suit, Fai," she murmured lazily. She traced her fingers along the young slayer's naked skin, and paused to trail her fingers between the two fleshly mountains. Her hand moved over slightly to palm the slight heft of the Boston girl's naked breast.

Faith sighed contentedly. "You're trouble, B," she breathed. "Always grabbin' the goodies."

Buffy gently squeezed the pliable globe and was rewarded with another soft sigh from her partner. The tips of her fingers danced their way over the bare flesh and she tweaked the quickly hardening nipple. The Boston woman felt her body flush warm despite the brisk temperature outdoors. She haphazardly discarded her still-full cup of coffee onto the front yard and spun around to face her lover.

Faith cupped the beautiful woman's chin in one hand and tilted her head up slightly so she could take purchase of her face. "Why can't I get enough of you?" she murmured, not really expecting an answer.

The blonde girl smiled up shyly at her lover. Her emerald green eyes shimmered brightly despite the overcast weather. "Believe me, babe," Buffy grinned softly, leaning into the younger woman's touch. "You're not the only one unsatisfied."

Faith pursed her lips together and dropped her hands to her sides. "_Unsatisfied_, B?" she repeated, her tone a little incredulous. "Don't tell me you…ya know…want _more_?"

Buffy grinned back, her smile bright and wide. "Fair enough," she stated. "I won't _tell _you, anything."

The blonde took her lover's hand in her own and slid it easily down the front of her sweatpants. The Boston girl hissed when she discovered the elder woman wore no undergarments. "Fuck, B," she moaned quietly.

Manipulating the raven-haired beauty's hand buried deep in her pajama pants, Buffy began to finger her own clit. The Californian breathed out sharply, feeling her own hand, as well as Faith's, rhythmically rubbing the protruding bud of flesh.

Faith tilted her head and leaned forward, coming closer to her lover. "You're such a little minx," she breathed into the small blonde's ear.

Buffy's hips involuntarily bucked forward when she felt the younger slayer's hot mouth on her exposed neck. The Boston girl sucked and nipped at the pressure point, earning her small mewls of appreciation.

"Uhn, so good, Fai," the elder woman grunted. "So close."

The Boston girl smiled warmly. "So soon, baby?" she admired. "Fuck, you must've been wound up tighter than a top."

Buffy rolled her hips suggestively under the dangerously beautiful woman's persistent touch. "Less talk; more touch," she purred.

The two women continued to work in tandem inside the Californian's loose sweatpants. Buffy's small hand covered Faith's, unnecessarily helping the younger woman rub her sensitive clit in small circles.

With her free hand, Buffy clenched tightly onto Faith's strong bicep, feeling the muscle tense and flex as she moved her hand inside of the other girl's pants. "Yes. Right there. Oh, God. Right there, Fai," she chanted encouragingly.

The dark-haired woman growled into the smaller woman's neck and lightly bit at the sensitive juncture where Buffy's neck connected to her shoulder. Her dull canines scratched along the taut skin.

Buffy pulled her hand from out of her pants and reached up to grab the Boston girl's face. "Kiss me, Faith," she panted desperately. Her hazel-green eyes appeared wild and out of focus from beneath her heavy eyelashes.

Not missing a beat, the Boston girl continued her ministrations under her blonde counterpart's elastic waistband. She could feel the elder woman's wetness accumulating between her thighs, allowing her to slip around the Californian's sex with greater ease. She stifled her own moans of arousal when she heard her lover's sex click with wetness. The heady sent of her pussy filled the air around them, and Faith crushed her lips hard against her lover's mouth, feeling the Californian's teeth cut into her thick lips.

Buffy groaned into the kiss, immediately pushing her tongue past the Boston girl's pouting lips and perfect teeth. Faith continued to rub the Californian's slippery pussy, the wetness pooling and beginning to trickle down her inner thighs.

"Fuck, baby," the Boston girl panted, her own arousal causing her to rub the elder slayer more furiously. "You're so fuckin' wet for me, B." Faith slid two fingers deep inside her partner, groaning as she felt the elder slayer's sex eagerly swallow her digits. The other woman's pussy felt hot and swollen and tight around her. She knew it wouldn't be long.

The blonde girl's cries were muffled by the intensity of the other woman's lip-lock. Faith thrust up harder into the golden-haired slayer's grasping sex, causing the elder girl's breath to catch in her throat. Finally, the California slayer's slight form stiffened – her body went rigid and her breath came out in shuddering gasps as an intense orgasm overwhelmed her senses.

The Boston girl kept her fingers buried in her partner's sex, feeling the hot cavern clench and release around her two fingers. When she was sure that Buffy's orgasm had subsided, Faith slipped her saturated fingers out of the other woman's pussy and out of her pants. The smaller girl's green eyes were closed and a small smile of contentment fluttered on her pursed lips.

The Boston girl purred from deep within her throat at the sight of her satisfied partner. She kissed along her protruding collarbone. "D'you like that, baby?" she mumbled into the hot skin.

In response, Buffy unceremoniously grabbed at the sash that held her lover's clothing closed and tore it untied, allowing the robe to hang open and exposing the Boston girl's naked body to the early morning air. Her pert breasts held the material open at the sides, and her dusty rose-colored nipples visibly hardened under the small slayer's stare.

The raven-haired woman snickered and gave her partner a cocky grin, not minding her nearly naked state. "Ready for round two already, hunh?" she challenged.

Wordlessly, the Californian licked her lips hungrily as she gazed on her darker counterpart's flawless body. She held onto the terry-robe material in either hand and leaning forward, kissed her way down the taller woman's body. She hesitated only slightly at Faith's bellybutton to swirl her tongue around in the concave body part.

Faith groaned encouragingly as the other slayer continued to travel down her body, and she ran her fingers through the soft golden tresses. Seemingly unfettered by the wooden porch biting into her knees, Buffy parted her lover's lips, holding her hands on either side of the brunette woman's pussy and exposing Faith's aching clit.

The dark haired girl whimpered quietly and closed her eyes in anticipation of her sister-Slayer's talented tongue. Her eyes fluttered open again when she felt the indescribable feeling of Buffy's eager mouth wrapped around the sensitive fleshy nub. Although the rainstorm beyond the protective shelter of the covered front porch was only a slight drizzle, it felt like a lightning bolt had struck her body.

The golden slayer sucked hard on the jumble of nerve endings while her fingers gathered the younger woman's moisture and spread it along her waiting slit. Faith shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet and opened her gate, silently encouraging the nimble blonde to continue her oral attentions.

Buffy looked up from underneath her thick eyelashes and smiled at her lover before wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.

Faith smirked sheepishly. "You drownin' down there, B?"

The Californian ran her tongue along her bottom lip, tasting the juices there. "Nothing I can't handle, F," she taunted in response.

The blonde buried her face deep in the other girl's pussy yet again, eliciting a gutteral moan from the Boston girl. Faith tangled her fingers in the blonde's flat-ironed hair and pulled the elder girl's head harder into her mons.

"God, your tongue, baby," the tall brunette moaned, feeling her partner lick along the folds and crevices of her shaved sex. Buffy flattened her tongue and began to lick her sister-Slayer's pussy in earnest, pressing hard against the other women's sex. Her hands clenched onto the Boston girl's naked ass, pulling her impossibly closer while her fingers dug into the pert flesh.

"Inside," she moaned. "I need to feel you inside," the raven-haired slayer pleaded.

Releasing the younger girl's ass, Buffy trailed her fingers up the insides of the Boston girl's quivering thighs and slid the tips along the dripping wet slit. Twisting her hand, the Californian buried two fingers inside her lover up to the first knuckle. Faith gasped when she felt her pussy stretch from the initial penetration.

Buffy pulled her fingers out, the tips just circling the wet hole. Faith clenched tighter to her lover's head, her fingers digging into the elder girl's scalp. "Please, Buffy," she whimpered, her voice cracking with frustration.

The small slayer pushed her two fingers back inside the younger woman's cunt, enjoying the control she held over her lover's body. Faith closed her eyes from the sensation of feeling so filled by Buffy; but just as soon as she had been rewarded by her lover, the Californian retracted her fingers yet again.

The small slayer continued in this fashion, slowly penetrating her lover with two fingers, pushing all the way in until her palm hugged the younger girl's throbbing clit and then pulling her digits completely out of Faith's desperate pussy, only to again be filled completely.

With the tips of her fingers barely circling the brown-haired woman's dripping pussy, Buffy leaned forward and flicked the younger slayer's clit with her tongue. She shoved her two fingers back inside Faith and flicked at the sensitive bud again with just the tip of her tongue.

With every repeated penetration, the brunette slayer's sex became increasingly wet, coating the elder woman's fingers with her essence. The Boston girl's cunt quivered and shuddered against Buffy's outstretched tongue. She had never felt so utterly teased and tortured and desperate to cum. Sensing her lover's prolonged anguish, Buffy began to speed up her evenly-paced thrusts.

Faith moaned loudly. "Yes, B. Oh my fucking God. I wanna cum for you so bad, baby. I'm gonna cum all over your face."

Buffy continued to increase the speed at which she fucked her lover. Her hand slapped lewdly against the younger woman's cunt, the sounds of skin on skin echoing in the heavy air. Faith grunted with every upward thrust of her partner's hand.

Buffy felt the Boston girl's sex begin to tighten around her fingers. Knowing her lover was close to climax, she leaned her head close to Faith's pussy and gently suckled on her achingly sensitive clit.

"Fuck!" Faith screamed into the deserted forest air, exploding in Buffy's mouth.

The brunette woman's knees buckled and she fell forward slightly. The elder slayer caught her around the waist before she stumbled to the ground.

"That was…that was…" Faith panted, holding tight to the small blonde's shoulders. She closed her eyes tightly, controlling the unexpected tears that seemed to spring to her eyes.

Buffy stood up, her knees screaming, and wrapped her thin arms around her lover's naked torso. She wordlessly nuzzled her nose against the Boston girl's naked skin, now damp with perspiration.

"I never want to leave here," she mumbled.

"Are you sure we should be doing this, Dawn? What if the others –,"

"Forget the others," the teen girl insisted sharply, her voice on edge. "They don't understand. I can't lose her too." Dawn looked imploringly at the ghostly figure's nearly corporeal face as she clutched onto Buffy's pale, limp hand.

The blonde slayer continued to remain unconscious in her hospital bed, unaware of the activity around her. "Please, Fred," the young girl pleaded. "You've _got_ to do this for me."

The brown haired ghost shook her head and pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up her narrow nose. "I don't know why Wesley volunteered me for this. The universe has rules. I'm a great believer in rules, and theorems, formulas..."

Dawn shook the worn copy of _Modern Physics Review _in front of the dead girl's face. "You can do this Fred," she insisted. "You _have _to."

"I know I _can _do it, Dawn. It's all very simple, really. In multi-dimensional superstring theory, distance scales inverted by T-duality apply to heterotic theories..."

The teenager blinked blankly a few times before grinning wildly. "See?" she stated, her voice raising an octave. "You've got this, Fred; we'll have Buffy healed in no time."

"But you know how dangerous it is, Dawn," Fred reminded the youngest Summers girl. "If I help you reopen the Hellmouth, all Hell could _literally _be turned loose…And without a guardian over the Hellmouth, we could all die. You could be dooming the world."

A voice boomed from the doorway. "A world that your sister died twice to save." The two women turned to find the owner of the stern voice. The English Watcher stood in the doorframe, his chiseled features set hard in anger and disappointment.

"And what, Giles?" the teen demanded angrily. "We just allow her to die a _third_ time for the world? You're _so _good at your job, Giles – Watching. Watching my sister die again and again."

"Do you honestly think it's been easy for me, Dawn? I consider Buffy my daughter." The Watcher's body went rigid with indignation. "Let me remind you that I've worked along side your sister for over a decade, far longer than you've…." The Englishman self-censored his rant and cut his words short. But the damage had been done.

The teenager breathed hard out her nose. "Longer than I've been human, you mean," Dawn snapped.

Willow and Kennedy burst through the doorway, interrupting the tension that had fallen over the small hospital room. "Hey everybody," chirped the bubbly redhead. "Kennedy and I brought donuts!"

The two hesitated at the entrance to Buffy's room, both women sensing the unease of the room's occupants.

Willow cocked her head to the side when she noticed Fred for the first time. "Hey, Fred," she smiled. "What are you d—." The redheaded woman's knees suddenly buckled and she clutched at the doorframe to keep herself from falling down.

"Oh, Goddess," the former witch moaned, desperately clinging to the wooden frame. "I can _smell_ it." She inhaled deeply and her red hair faded to black as she breathed in. The dark coloring crawled up her hair follicles like spiders. "I can smell the _evil. _The _Power_." Her body shuddered as though experiencing the most intense pleasure.

Kennedy held onto her lover's elbow to support her. "Easy, Will," the slayer murmured, looking down at her girlfriend's convulsing form, the concern and confusion apparent in her dark eyes.

Giles' eyes went dark and he glared between Dawn and Fred. "What have you done?" he hissed.

The ghostly physicist averted her eyes and twisted her hands together nervously. "Just, um," she hesitated. "Just some science."

The hospital floor began to shake as if the building had been hit by an earthquake. The room's occupants grabbed at stationary objects and each other to remain upright. A red ray of light burst from a crack in the wall.

"You see," Fred began, a strange smile on her lips, "if space-time can undergo massive rearrangement of its structure, tearing and reconnecting according to a pre-determined disposition, then T-duality would allow for the compactification of extra space dimensions."

The girl paused to take a deep breath before continuing her science lesson. "Consider the non-perturbitive properties of superstring theory," she posed. "In D-Branes, especially as applied to Dirichlet, boundary conditions with dual open strings that are T-transformed... This, in turn, leads to the conclusion that strings can only end in P-dimensional dynamical."

Kennedy stared at the strange girl while continuing to hold onto Willow. "Uh, in English ghost-lady?" she questioned sharply, dumbfounded by the events that had quickly transpired.

Fred waved her hands at the red-glowing rift as though she were Vanna White. "I give you…." she stated dramatically, "….Hell."

"Do you feel that?"

The two slayers lay side by side on the worn futon, which they had folded out to turn into a double bed. Faith rested on her back, one arm positioned under her head, propping her skull up like a makeshift pillow. She stared up at the wooden-beams above.

Buffy rolled over on her side and stroked her fingertips down the Boston girl's naked arm. "Feel what, Fai?" she murmured. She slid her other hand under the rough blanket that covered their naked bodies. Her hand slid along the protruding hipbones, which felt slightly damp from their earlier exertions. The blonde leaned forward and pressed her lips against her lover's bare arm, tasting the slight tang of salty sweat on the over-worked skin.

Faith turned her head slightly to gaze upon the angelic features of the woman she had loved for so many years. She ran the tip of her finger along her smooth cheekbones.

"Everything's about to change," she stated cryptically.

Giles and the former witch began to detach the various tubes and wires from the small blonde's hospital-ridden body.

"The damage has been done," the former Watcher growled as he helped the redhead rearrange Buffy's unconscious body on her bed. "We might as well take advantage of it. We've got to move quickly; the hospital staff will no doubt be checking on all the patients after that quasi-earthquake."

"So no ooky tentacles this time," Fred stated brightly, staring at the red dimensional rift proudly. "That's got to be a good sign, right?"

Willow frowned as she looked at the ominously pulsing portal. "Do you really think it's a good idea for us to go down there without any weapons?"

Kennedy shook her head at her girlfriend's worried tone. "Giles is right, Will. There's no time to go back to the castle and grab reinforcements. We've gotta act now before the damn thing closes."

The young slayer grabbed onto her girlfriend's elbow and ushered her closer to the mystical portal. "Besides, Will," she smiled softly. "I've got _you. _And what more do I need than the most powerful Wicca in any dimension?"

Willow gave the novice slayer a lopsided grin. "And I've got you – my Slayer."

Giles coughed loudly. "As touching as this little moment is…." His mouth was set in a straight line, clearly still unhappy with Dawn's decision to open the portal without consulting him first. "You two should probably get going," he nodded toward the red-glowing rift.

"_Two_?" the teenaged Summers girl cried out loudly. "What about _me_? I want to go! I want to help Buffy!"

"Dawnie," Willow softly stated, touching the teenager's shoulder lightly. "You need to stay here," she insisted.

"But I want to help," Dawn repeated futilely. She stared at her elder sister's vulnerable form. "I don't want to leave her."

"You're not leaving her, sweetie," the witch assured the former Key. Her voice was even and soothing. "You're the one who contacted Fred. You're the one saving her."

"Besides," Kennedy interjected, gingerly picking up the small unconscious blonde slayer in her arms, "if we get stuck in Hell, we need you and Giles up here to find a way to get us back."

Willow beamed at her girlfriend for her helpful contribution.

Dawn sighed as if defeated and slumped her shoulders forward. "Okay," she nodded somberly. "But promise me you'll make her better," Dawn rasped, her voice heavy with emotion. "Promise me she's going to be okay."

The witch clasped the young girl's hand tight in her own. "I promise, Dawnie," she stated, giving the teen's hand a squeeze. "We're going to make her strong again."

TBC

11


	6. Chapter 6

"I forgot my hand basket."

The hospital room's occupants stared strangely at the novice slayer. Kennedy shrugged as much as she could while holding onto the golden-haired slayer's fragile body in her outstretched arms. "You know…going to Hell in a hand basket?" she clarified. "I forgot my hand basket."

Neither Dawn nor Giles thought the bratty slayer's comment to be well timed or clever. Willow simply shook her head at her girlfriend in disbelief.

"What?" the girl protested innocently. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

Willow looked away from her partner and back towards the red glowing crack in the hospital wall. "We'd better get going," she muttered nervously, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.

Willow, Kennedy, and Buffy – with the aid of the brown-haired slayer – stepped through the pulsing dimensional rift. A blinding white light invaded their eyes and the world around them melted away. A kind of lurching and convulsing motion followed, akin to the moving sidewalks in airport terminals and the two conscious young women closed their eyes to keep from throwing up into the ether.

When the motion finally stopped, the small group of demon fighters landed atop a barren, rocky terrain. The ground looked like parched, red clay. It was more desolate and devoid of life than the sparsest of desert. Neither vegetation nor animal dared inhabit this area. Two suns burned hot, high in the sky.

Still holding Buffy in her arms, the weight of the unconscious slayer started to make Kennedy's biceps scream in protest. Although the blonde girl was certainly thin, especially since her hospitalization, Kennedy's upper-arm strength was severely limited without her Slayer abilities. The dark-haired girl gingerly sat the blonde woman on the ground, mindful not to let her head hit against the jagged rocks.

When Kennedy looked back over at her girlfriend, the redhead looked visibly shaken.

"Baby?" Kennedy questioned softly, looking at her partner's pale face with concern. "What's wrong? What's going on?" She stood up straight and strode over to Willow, placing a warm hand on the witch's forearm.

Willow closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm okay," she breathed heavily. "It's just a lot of _feeling _right now. The rush of all this magic suddenly coming back." She opened her eyes, which now looked completely black. "Don't you feel it?" she rasped. "Don't you feel the Slayer?"

Kennedy's face crumpled and she looked on the verge of tears. "I don't feel anything, Will."

Willow blinked again, her eyes returning to their normal color. "Well, maybe you just don't remember –,"

"I remember how it felt," Kennedy interrupted, her voice going sharp. "Feeling connected to something larger than yourself. Feeling a purpose, like all doubt had gone away. But…" she paused as if checking herself. "I don't feel strong."

The redhead winced. "I was afraid this might happen."

Her dark-haired girlfriend looked sour. "Afraid _what _might happen?" she demanded curtly.

"The spell I did with the scythe that gave you all your powers," Willow explained. "When magic was banished, it reversed all spells that had ever been cast. Like how Dawn stopped being a mermaid and you…" she trailed off.

"Stopped being a Slayer," the brunette woman finished.

Both women immediately turned to look at Buffy, who remained largely unconscious with her head resting lightly against a terracotta rock.

"But what I don't understand," Willow began, "is why she hasn't woken up. Just coming here should have immediately made her stronger."

"You mean Buffy's not a Slayer either?" Kennedy questioned, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

Willow continued to stare at the vulnerable blonde. None of this made sense to the redhead. She had anticipated that perhaps her girlfriend would no longer be a Slayer, but certainly the _Chosen One _would have regained her powers by now?

The witch looked up from her best friend's fragile body and into her girlfriend's face. "We've got to find Faith," she stated, her eyes flashing with determination.

"Ouch!"

A green spark of light nipped at the witch's fingertips. Willow recoiled her right hand and stuck the singed ends of her fingers into her mouth.

"Are you okay, baby? What happened?" Kennedy implored. She took the redhead's hand out of her mouth and placed small, tender kisses at the end of each burned digit.

"I'm a little rusty," Willow explained as she watched her girlfriend tend to her fingers. "It's just supposed to be a simple locator spell, but the 'locator' part keeps biting me," she complained.

Kennedy's body tensed and she looked up from her partner's hand. "Uh, baby," she hissed, her eyes trained on something behind Willow's head. "We've got company."

The two women's bodies went rigid when they saw multiple sets of giant paws, each adorned with Freddy Krueger-like claws, climbing up the mountainside and quickly advancing toward their small, vulnerable group.

Willow's glance flashed toward the comatose blonde, still leaning against a rock formation with her eyes closed. "Kennedy," she ordered. "Go hide Buffy; I'll hold them off until you get back."

The young slayer hesitated momentarily by her girlfriend. The witch held her hands out by her sides, her palms facing out, summoning her magicks. "Now, Kennedy!" she hollered.

The dark-haired girl scampered over to the unconscious slayer's body and awkwardly shoved her head under the girl's dangling arm to heft her dead-weight body off of the sandy soil. Struggling with the unresponsive body, the young slayer gave up trying to lift her body off the ground to carry her, and instead settled for dragging the girl across the narrow patch of barren earth. The blonde slayer's heels dragged uselessly through the clay ground, leaving a wavy trail in their wake.

Reaching a relatively secluded location, the novice slayer attempted to rest Buffy's body against another jutting rock formation. Her slender body slumped over and her head flopped to the side. Kennedy watched helplessly as the Californian's unconscious form tipped all the way sideways, landing her face awkwardly in the red sand. The bratty slayer chuckled, nearly forgetting the dire situation in which she was. Although the girl wanted to stay rooted in that space and enjoy the site of General Buffy facedown in the red soil, she knew her girlfriend was far from safe.

Kennedy rushed back into the fray to see her witch girlfriend barely holding back the three snarling creatures. "Can't you just like, hit them with a lightening bolt or something?" the powerless slayer shouted as she grappled with one of the multi-armed beasts.

"I have no idea what these things are!" Willow responded. She ducked quickly just as the four-armed creature swiped at her head. "I've never seen this kind of demon before, so I don't know how to kill them!"

A glimmer of silver flashed through the air. Both Willow and her slayer girlfriend felt a hot rush of air and watched dumbfounded as one of the demon's heads toppled from its neck and onto the barren earth. The two remaining demons paused momentarily to size up the new threat. With the sun to her back, only the silhouette of a slender feminine form was visible. A bright halo of light cradled her body, causing her features to be shadowed in darkness.

"When in doubt," growled the newcomer, "I always vote for decapitation."

"Faith," the slayer and witch breathed simultaneously.

Within seconds, the amped-up slayer succeeded in decapitating the two remaining demons. The three estranged women stood over the oozing corpses, a strange silence between them. No one knew quite what to say or what kind of greeting to give. Did they hug? Shake hands? High five?

Finally, the newest slayer spread her arms wide. "So, uh, _this _is Hell?" Kennedy asked conversationally. "Gotta say…I'm a bit under-whelmed."

.

"You guys ain't seen nothing," the Boston girl smiled broadly. "You just had the misfortune of teleporting to the Badlands. Nothing grows here; just a nasty bunch of Grystalek demons who call it home."

"Our four-armed friends, I assume?" Kennedy quipped.

Faith flashed the dark haired woman a cheeky grin. "And here I thought you were the Slow Slayer, Ken. Lookit you all head of the class."

Faith ushered the two women towards the edge of the mountaintop, revealing a panoramic view of a city skyline. "Behold – Hell – home to more casinos and strip clubs than any other dimension per capita."

Kennedy blinked a few times before responding. "So you're saying that Hell is basically Los Vegas?"

"More or less…" Faith nodded. "Better floor shows, I'd wager."

"Faith," Willow hesitated looking down at the impressive stretch of neon signs and sophisticated buildings. "H-how long have you been here?"

The dark-haired slayer suddenly looked uncomfortable. Her eyes narrowed, pulling her well-crafted eyebrows together and she shoved her hands in the front pockets of her leather pants. "Almost 150 years," she revealed.

"I don't see why we're looking in the books," Dawn whined from her seat at the castle's library table. "This is certainly unprecedented; we're never going to find a reference to the Death of Magic."

"Perhaps," Giles agreed with the young Summers girl, "but we won't know until we try."

"What's this?" asked the boy, wiping his jelly and powdered covered face with the back of his hand before wiping his sticky digits on the front of his jeans.

Giles grimaced when he saw the one-eyed man pawing the delicate document with jelly-coated hands. The Watcher snatched the piece of paper from the young man's hand.

"I've been looking for this everywhere," the Englishman mumbled eagerly.

Dawn's eyes lit up and she looked up from the giant dusty tome she was currently skimming for information. "What is it, Giles?"

Giles pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with the tip of his forefinger. He set his jaw in a straight line as he read the carefully drawn out document. "It's the contract from Wolfram and Hart," he informed them. "The one that wretched lawyer woman brought with her to the mystical safe house. I wasn't sure I had transported it back with us."

Dawn shut the thick book in front of her "What are you looking for?" she asked, suddenly interested in this seemingly paltry piece of paper.

"A loophole…something…anything that will help us get our girls back," Giles stated. "I'm afraid it's going to take more than a fancy math equation to get them back."

Dawn tried to look beyond the Watcher's hands to see the document he was currently scrutinizing.

"What does it say?" she demanded. "I can't see."

The aging Englishman sighed and his entire body deflated. He looked as though the past few weeks had exponentially aged him. He slowly set the document on the wooden table and removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I never thought I'd ever say these words," Giles admitted, "but…we need a lawyer."

Kennedy coughed anxiously. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but damn girl…you're looking _fine _for being more than century and a half old. How did you celebrate your sesquicentennial?"

"Big word for a little girl," Faith leered momentarily, feeling the familiar rage building inside herself. But she quickly calmed down and her face became emotionless. "The Slayer spell apparently made me immortal," she explained flatly. "I mean, not that I've really _tested _this theory…I haven't tried to die recently, but I certainly haven't aged since I've been here."

Willow opened her mouth to ask another question, but Faith held up a hand, halting the words. "I know you guys have about a billion questions for me, and I certainly have some for you. But the Badlands isn't called 'bad' for nothing. We gotta move," she informed the two newcomers. "I'll bring you someplace safe."

."It took a few years, but then the demons got organized."

Faith pressed her hand flat against a scanner to the right of her apartment door. The front entrance buzzed, not unlike the noise the Boston girl had become accustomed to while in prison. She swung the door open and entered her home, followed quickly by the witch and her still-powerless slayer. Faith kicked off her boots in the hardwood-floored foyer and tromped down the small hallways toward the great room.

She nodded toward her right. "Kitchen's over there," she stated. She flicked her eyes toward the back of the apartment. "Bathroom and bedrooms are in the back."

Willow coughed anxiously as she looked at the dark-haired slayer. "Uh," she bumbled awkwardly, "shouldn't you put her down now?"

Faith looked over at her right shoulder where she had casually flung the still unconscious blonde girl, not unlike a Neanderthal carrying his mate. Faith shrugged. "Eh, I'm okay," she stated easily. "Twinkie's a lightweight."

Kennedy stared at the small slayer, her arms hanging loose from her torso and her thing legs lifeless. "Should, uh, we be concerned about her?" she asked, scratching at the back of her neck. "I mean, she's like an effin' narcoleptic or something."

Willow grimaced at her girlfriend's lack of tact. "As soon as we get settled here," the witch said, "I'll see what I can do about getting her to wake up." The Wiccan glanced sideways at the Boston Slayer. "I may need to, um, _borrow, _some energy from you, if that's okay, Faith. My powers seem to be slow coming back too."

The dark-haired girl nodded once. "Yeah, Red. Take whatever you need." Faith hefted the slight blond, rearranging her over her shoulder. "I'm just gonna set her down in my room," she remarked. "Go ahead and make yourself at home," she added.

The former rogue slayer disappeared down the hallway, leaving Kennedy and Willow behind. The two women stood awkwardly in the living room. Kennedy smiled slowly at her girld. "Think they have beer in Hell?" she posed.

"Goddess, I hope so," Willow sighed. "I could use a drink."

Faith propped the blonde against a wall while she turned down the bed, pulling back the cotton sheets. She shimmied the Californian's unresponsive body under the covers, rearranging her hands so they lay above the blanket. She moved them in different positions, but no matter how she positioned them, Faith couldn't help but compare it to arranging Buffy in a coffin for a wake.

The girl's skin was pale – much paler than Faith had ever seen on the normally bronzed former cheerleader. Her hair was shaved on one side, making the thin row of stitches and staples appear even more horrific and Frankensteinian.

Faith perched herself on the side of the soft bed and took the girl's warm, thing hand in her own calloused ones. The Boston girl worried her bottom lip, remaining silent as she continued to stare at the woman she loved and who loved her in return.

Ever since she had fallen upon Kennedy and Willow, smelling the magicks the experienced Wicca had cast in her search for the dark slayer and in her attempt to ward off the multi-limbed demons, Faith had refused to acknowledge Buffy's presence. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice as she gazed at her broken lover.

She allowed herself to remember that once, she too had laid, unresponsive in a coma and she briefly wondered if Buffy had ever visited her. She closed her eyes hard as she felt the hot tears threatening to burst from her large, expressive eyes.

Faith had never imaged it would come to this – that Buffy's friends would be forced to reopen the Hellmouth to save their friends life – or at least she assumed that was the reason for the unexpected visit. It certainly wasn't just to save _her _from Hell.

In their shared slayer dreams, Faith knew the blonde was escaping and evading the real world. And she had selfishly allowed it to continue so she could never have to sacrifice time with her lover. But now – seeing Buffy comatose – forced the Boston girl to rethink her decision to allow the golden-haired slayer to escape inside her mind to be with her so often and for so long.

She buried her face in her free hand and allowed the tears to fall silently, dripping through the spaces between her fingers.

A soft cough from the doorway made the normally stoical slayer tense her shoulders. She cast her eyes to the side and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. But as much as she tried to hide her grief, her red-edged eyes gave her away.

Willow silently padded into the bedroom and kneeled down in front of Faith who remained seated on the edge of the bed. The witch looked back and forth between Buffy and the dark slayer.

"How long have you known?" the redhead asked.

"That she had cancer?" Faith finished for the witch. The woman swallowed her tears and quickly cleared her throat. "I can't explain it, honestly. The first few years," she started, nearly choking on the words as old memories resurfaced. "It was so hard here. Before the demons got organized and started to rebuild this dimension, everything was hard and bright and rough and brutal." The Boston girl sighed tiredly. "At night, I'd go to sleep, just hoping to dream of her. And…and at first I thought it was just that – just dreams. But then she got sick. And I knew it couldn't be a dream."

"You-you were _there?_" Willow asked in amazement. "We all thought Buffy was just hallucinating because of the tumor."

Faith pursed her lips. "Yea, I know. But luckily I _was _there, even if y'all thought she was going crazy, cause otherwise she would have gone undiagnosed."

Willow shook her head and smiled. "That's amazing, Faith. Do you know what this means?" Her voice raised slightly in an excited tone. "If what you're saying is true, then magic never really left. Or…or maybe," she continued, thinking out loud, "it's still there, but just as a less powerful, more subtle presence. Otherwise I don't know how to explain the shared Slayer dreams and you actually being there at the hospital with us."

"So what's the hold up on healing Blondie?" Faith asked, feigning disinterest. Although she certainly had an open relationship with the blonde slayer in their dreams, she was still unsure what exactly Buffy had told the Scoobies in her absence.

"I could heal her, make her stronger, but it would take some time. If she was a Slayer again, it would speed up the process." Willow hesitated. "But that's not what I meant when I asked, 'how long.'"

"How long what?" Faith asked.

"How long," Willow repeated, "have you known you were in love with her?"

A small whimper of vulnerability escaped the normally steely slayer's mouth. She looked down at Willow who remained at her feet. The young slayer's face filled with pain. "Always," she rasped.

Willow slowly reached out and placed a maternal hand on the Boston girl's leather-clad knee. "Me too," she smiled.

The raven-haired slayer gave the witch a knowing smile and growled in the back of her throat. "Better watch it, Red," her voice cracked. "Don't wanna let Ken hear you saying that."

The Wicca blushed and averted her gaze.

Faith exhaled deeply and cracked her neck to either side. "So," she stated, her voice clearer and stronger than before. "What do we do about Sleeping Beauty?" She nodded toward the unresponsive blonde. "Kiss of true love?" she lightly joked.

Willow stood up from her knees. "Did you try it yet?" she retorted playfully, giving the Boston girl a reason to blush now.

The witch perched on the side of the bed next to Faith. "I can transfer some of your life force to her. It's really like science – you know, energy is neither created nor destroyed."

Faith held up both hands. "Woah there. You had me at 'science", Red. Just point me where you want me to go."

Willow nodded toward the former hospitalized slayer. "Hold her hand," she instructed. Each girl grabbed one of Buffy's hands and then completed the circle by grasping onto each other as well.

"What do I have to do?" Faith asked, her voice belying her nervousness.

"Just close your eyes and focus on your breathing. I don't want to jolt her system with too much power, so I'm just going to take a little."

The Boston girl exhaled loudly and nodded before shutting her eyes and concentrating on breathing in and out with even, smooth breaths. Her hands began to tingle like her appendages were starting to fall asleep. She opened her eyes when she felt Willow release her light hold on her hand.

"Something wrong, Red?" she asked, expecting more.

Willow smiled at the dark-haired slayer. "See for yourself."

The Boston girl rested her eyes on the small Californian whose skin now appeared clearer, brighter, and flushed with life.

"That's _amazing_, Willow," the young slayer breathed. "Do it again."

The redheaded Wicca chuckled. "It's going to take time, Faith. I don't want to go too quickly and put _you _in a coma, or zap her awake."

Faith set her jaw and nodded. "Just do what you think is gonna help her get better, Red." She spread her hands, palms up. "I might be the Slayer, but you're totally in charge here."

Willow stood up from the bed and stretched out her legs. "I should go check on Kennedy and make sure she hasn't destroyed your kitchen. You coming?"

Faith's eyes had once again glued themselves on the seemingly sleeping slayer. "No, uh, I think I'll just sit with her for a while. Maybe, ya know, talk to her or something." She looked at the witch with a hopeless expression on her face. "They say that's good for coma patients, right?" Just, like, talk to them?"

The young witch felt her heart break as she looked at the younger slayer. Willow had never realized that the Boston girl could really love her best friend with such sincerity and intensity.

"Yeah," Willow smiled softly. "I think Buffy would like that – to know you're here."

The witch turned to leave the two slayers alone and seek out her girlfriend, but she paused at the doorframe when she heard the Boston girl call her name.

"Willow," Faith rasped. "Thank you." She looked over at the redhead. "Thank you for bringing her back to me."

Willow swallowed hard, feeling the tears building up in her eyes. She nodded once to acknowledge the girl. She couldn't say the words that she wanted to, fearing she might lose her resolve. "You're welcome."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

"I really hate it when I don't feel smart. Have I mentioned that to you?"

"Babe," Kennedy sighed, "why can't you just let it drop? Big deal," she mumbled through her mouthful of food. "Buffy's not a Slayer down here in Hell. Let's just move past that and focus on getting _out _of Hell."

"But why _isn't _Buffy a Slayer?" Willow huffed, poking at a discarded cookie that lay on the tabletop. "I mean, I get why _you're _not all slay girl anymore, but Buffy not being the Slayer just doesn't make any kind of sense!"

Faith strolled into her kitchen to find the two girlfriends bickering. She stood in the doorway undetected and smiled. Even though she hadn't particularly enjoyed either woman's company before, after a century and a half of being without real human contact, she would take what the Fates sent her way.

"What are you guys yammering about in here?" the Boston girl interrupted the two, causing both women to slightly jump in their seated positions in the eat-in-kitchen. "And why are the contents of my pantry now on the floor?"

"Willow is finally experiencing what it feels like to be dumb like the rest of us, and I got hungry," Kennedy shrugged, opening another bag of potato chips. "By the way, how did you get _Doritos _in Hell anyway?"

Faith smirked. "I know a guy. Well, not technically a _guy, _more like a demon." She paused thoughtfully. "I guess being the most feared person in Hell has its perks," she shrugged nonchalantly. "But enough about food."

She shook her head, trying not to get distracted by Kennedy's over-active appetite. "Explain to me why Willow is dumb now? Did coming to Hell, like, sap your super brain?"

Willow harrumphed from her seat at the kitchen table. "Buffy's not a Slayer," she grumbled. "My whole plan was to open the Hellmouth, bring her down here, and then let her Slayer strength take over from there. So why isn't it working!"

"I guess it makes sense in a way. All dimensions are the same," Faith began as she walked toward the refrigerator. "Well, not the _same, _but they do have something in common – a Champion. It turns out all that mumbo jumbo about 'Only one girl in all the world' should be abridged to only one girl in every _dimension._ Every dimension has their own slayer – or an equivalent champion for the PtB. And I'm Hell's champion."

"Wait," Willow interrupted. "If you're Hell's Champion, then who's supposed to be our version of Earth's Champion?"

Faith stepped back from the opened refrigerator door, a small metallic box in her hand. She shrugged as she looked at the redhead. "Beats me, Red. The police?"

The Wicca made a face at the Boston girl. "Hah," she deadpanned. "But that still doesn't explain about Buffy."

Faith rummaged through the icebox. "The job's been filled, so I guess it makes sense why B's powers didn't automatically come back. The Powers that Be have a funny way of evening things out. And there was only ever supposed to be one of us."

"When did _you _get so smart?" Kennedy asked around a mouthful of chips.

"I'm a hundred and seventy-six years old," Faith reminded the young girl. "It comes with the territory."

"And you don't look a day over a hundred and twenty," the bratty former slayer quipped. "What's that in your hand?"

"It's like a beer juice box," Faith explained. "We do things rectangular here, not spherical."

"As long as it gets me drunk," Kennedy noted, standing up to pull one out of the refrigerator as well, "I don't care if it's shaped like a penis."

Faith gave the dark-haired girl a horrified look, but gave her the small box. "That's beyond disgusting. Red, do something about your girl."

The redheaded witch wasn't surprised by the blush that felt hot on her face. Kennedy had an uncanny way of embarrassing her with her bluntness and brashness. She supposed that's how Buffy had felt about Faith as well, and her heart felt a slight twang of sadness as she thought about her comatose friend.

"How's the patient?" Willow asked, changing the subject, knowing that the Boston girl had just been at her bedside.

Faith's face contorted into a kind of grimace. "Still sleeping," she mumbled.

Fred paced around the room and chewed on the end of a pen cap. "I could open another portal, that's no problem," she stated, "but there's nothing to guarantee that your friends would be waiting on the other side. Without Magic, there's no way to know where exactly they are in Hell anymore."

Xander watched with interest as the ghostly girl paced back and forth in the Scotland castle's library. "Willow's a witch though," he pointed out, "why wouldn't she be able to open up a portal in Hell and come back?"

Fred stopped in her wandering and stared at the one-eyed man. "Because portals are a two-way street," she answered. "Magic has to exist in _both _dimensions for the connection to be made. If you tried to transport yourself to a non-magical world, it would be like…" she trailed off, thinking for an appropriate analogy, "the door to the other realm was locked. You could get stuck in that portal forever."

"So what you're saying is," Xander started, trying to wrap his head around these intangibles, "we need to bring Magic back before Willow can bring _them _back."

"Right," Fred agreed, "but you've got that contract with Wolfram and Hart that puts a nix in the Magic."

"What about using Science again?" Dawn posed. "Does Science exist in Hell?"

Fred cocked her head to the side. "I never thought of it that way," she mused, pushing her glasses up her nose. "It must for the portal to have worked."

"Yea," Xander sighed, "but Willow doesn't know how to do the Science mojo. Fred never taught her how to do it."

Dawn groaned and set her forehead against the large library table. "This is making my head hurt," she complained.

Giles walked into the room to find what remained of the Scoobies sitting disenchanted at the large rectangular table. "We have a meeting with those wretched Wolfram and Hart people."

Dawn lifted her head from off the table and her eyes lit up. "Really?" she asked, her voice hopeful. "How did you get in contact with them?"

Giles flicked his eyes toward the ghostly woman who had now turned to studying one of the many books on the large wooden table.

"It appears that Wesley was able to get a hold of that dreadful Lilah woman. She'll be here in a few hours to potentially negotiate a new contract."

Dawn sat up a little straighter in her chair. "That's a good thing, right?"

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I honestly don't know, Dawn."

"But at least we know the answer to that age-old question," Xander quipped.

The room's other three occupants stared expectantly at the former carpenter.

"We now know that lawyers have souls. Cause you know, Lilah's a ghost, and that's like, a soul, right?"

"Aw, c'mon guys," Xander complained when Fred shimmered away and Dawn and Giles left the room. "It was just a joke!" the dark haired man protested from his seat at the library table.

"Guys?"

"Baby, I wish you would just wake up."

The brunette slayer sat in a chair she had pulled up close to her double mattress where Buffy continued to lay unconscious. She brushed her fingertips along the soft skin of the other woman's motionless face. Faith stared intently at her lover's face with her own features scrunched in pain and deep in thought. She traced along the tiny lines around Buffy's mouth and eyes and down to the faded, almost indistinguishable scars on her neck.

"I miss the sound of your voice," Faith sighed, memorizing the dips and falls of Buffy's earlobes. "I miss that half-smile I know you've probably practiced a million times in the mirror. I miss the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you get nervous."

Faith held Buffy's hand in her own. Her skin felt warmer than it had been when she, Willow, and Kennedy had brought the girl to her apartment. The Boston girl brought the delicate appendage up to her mouth and pressed her thick lips solidly against the warm skin.

"When you wake up, baby," the dark-haired girl continued, "I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna protect you, Buffy. I'll never let you get sick or weak ever again." Faith felt the forming lump in her throat and the stinging tears biting at the corners of her dark chocolate eyes. "Please, baby." She kissed the top of broken blonde's hand again. "Just open your eyes."

The dark slayer's hypersensitive reflexes and senses indicated she was no longer alone in her bedroom with Buffy. She coughed uncomfortably, clearing her throat and she wiped at her eyes with her free hand, collecting her emotions. Without looking up toward the doorway, Faith posed a question to the newcomer: "So when do you think we can re-juice her again?"

Willow smiled not unkindly and leaned against the door jam. "Eager to get your honey back?"

The Boston girl looked up at the Wicca's gentle smile. "Fuck, Red," Faith chuckled, but her face looked pained. "Give me a break, yea?" She let go of Buffy's hand and placed it back in its original position next to her side. "_You _try being celibate for a century and a half."

The witch gave the Boston girl a horrified look. "Oh my Goddess. You _are _in Hell."

Faith tried to not smile at the experienced Wicca's reaction, but failed. She wiped her hands on her dark jeans. "How much more of this energy transferring do ya think it's gonna take until she wakes up again?"

"I honestly don't know," Willow frowned slightly, walking further into the bedroom. "I mean, obviously, it wouldn't take as long if I could just _make her_ a slayer again."

Faith stood up abruptly from her chair and strode toward her closet. "I think I have just what you need." The dark-haired slayer rummaged through the clothes closet in the bedroom.

"I think _this _is what you're looking for."

Willow gasped in surprise when she saw what the formerly rogue slayer held in her clenched fist – the Slayer Scythe.

"The Partners are willing to negotiate," the ghostly lawyer stated smugly. "We have more important interests in other dimensions instead of your world. A magic-less realm is far less important to the Firm than say, the Fate of Hell. It's not to our advantage to have your witch down there where she can tip the balance of Good and Evil."

Lilah Morgan stood in front of Giles, Xander, Dawn, Fred, and Wesley who all sat in leather chairs in the Scottish library near the fireplace. The Wolfram and Hart lawyer had spared no pleasantries upon arriving at the castle, but instead launched into her proposition for the group of former demon hunters.

"So you can get them back?" Dawn asked eagerly.

Lilah nodded curtly and reshuffled the papers in her hands. "We can bring them back, but only if they remain the same as they went in."

Xander raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What do you mean?" he asked. As much as he wanted his best friends to return, he was uneasy about using the evil law firm to help them reach their goal.

"They can't bring magic back with them," Lilah clarified. "The contract we originally negotiated is very explicit about this. Since your Champion beat ours, no magical creatures are allowed in this dimension."

"Well that seems easy enough," Xander stated cheerfully. He smiled at the group, but his face fell when he saw the look on the English Watcher's face. "Giles, what's wrong?"

The aging man sighed sadly and brushed his fingers through his short hair. "It means that Faith can't come back, no matter what."

"What – How-how did you get this?"

Faith frowned. "I'm the Slayer, Red. It came down with me when I got sucked into the Hellmouth in Cleveland."

Willow blinked a few times and shook her head. "I-I'm sorry, Faith. I didn't mean that you _shouldn't _have it, I'm just surprised to see it is all."

Faith jerked her hand forward, pushing the scythe closer to the witch. "So whatcha waiting for, Red?" she asked gruffly, pushing a strand of dark hair away from her forehead. "Make her strong again."

The witch's eyes flicked back and forth between the sleeping blonde and the hard-edged brunette. "Are you sure this is what you want?" she mumbled slowly.

The Boston girl's eyebrows furrowed together. "What do you mean? Of _course _I want her to wake up. What the fuck, Willow?"

"I just meant, are you sure you want her to be a Slayer again?" the redheaded woman challenged. "You've kinda got a monopoly on the gig now. Are you ready to give that all up? You could just wait a few more weeks maybe and the small energy transfers will eventually wake her up."

The familiar rage warmed Faith's hard body. In Hell, with its abundant evil and darkness, the girl had originally found it difficult to control her anger. More times than not, she found herself blindly killing demons for simply looking at her the wrong way. But over the decades, she had learned how to harness the evil and reign-in her darkest emotions.

But what the redheaded girl – what Buffy's supposed best friend – was now suggesting, was making it hard for the Boston girl to swallow her seething anger.

She wanted to tear the girl's limbs from her body and beat her senseless with her own arms and legs – screaming at the top of her lungs all the while: _"You stupid, insipid girl. How dare you insult me like that. You think that after a century and a half of living without Buffy, I would let something as insignificant as this get in the way of healing her? I never _cared_ about being the only Slayer. I just wanted to be good enough. To be seen as Buffy's equal. I just wanted….Buffy."_

Faith swallowed hard and gnashed her teeth together. "Make her a Slayer," she finally spit out, "or I'll find myself another demon who'll do it for me."

Willow reached out shakily and wrapped her fingers around the wooden handle of the scythe, alarmed by the darkness that had swallowed the ageless slayer's normally brown eyes.

The Wicca looked hard into the blackness that consumed Faith's irises. "Close your eyes," she coaxed, her voice little more than a murmur. "This might sting a little."

Faith obeyed the experienced Wicca and closed her dark eyes, feeling the rage within her slowly subside. Her eyes flipped open, however, when she heard a rustling sound coming from the corner of the room where her bed was.

"Guys?" came the rough, hoarse voice. "Where am I?"

The witch and the slayer dropped the scythe, letting it fall to the hardwood floor with a loud clatter. Faith dropped to her knees in disbelief and Willow stood stunned, her jaw dropped open.

The warm chocolate coloring returned to the Boston slayer's eyes. "Buffy?"

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

"You're awake…you're really here," the Boston girl murmured, her eyes illuminated with amazement.

Buffy struggled to pull herself up into a sitting position in bed. Faith quickly scrambled to her feet in order to help the smaller girl gingerly reposition herself.

"But where _is _here?" Buffy asked, looking around the small, furnished bedroom. "The last thing I remember is being in a cabin with you…."

The dark slayer smiled at the puzzled expression drawn across Buffy's face. It was the kind of look that always made her want to stump the blonde Californian if only to be able to see the adorable confusion on her features.

"I'll just…uh…I'll just leave you two to catch up," the redhead interrupted, noticing that her presence had gone wholly unnoticed now that the two slayers were reunited. Willow smiled at her best friend. "I'm so happy you're awake Buffy," the young Wicca stated. "Faith, I'll just be in the kitchen catching Kennedy up and making sure she doesn't start eating your place settings."

Faith composed herself long enough to flash the retreating girl a grateful smile.

The Boston-born slayer quickly turned her attentions back to the recently lucid blonde. "Can I get you anything? Do you need something to drink? To eat? I could get you a book?" Faith asked hurriedly. Her voice sounded high-pitched and tense.

Buffy gave her lover a half smile and patted the edge of her bed. "Just sit down and be with me," she rasped, her voice still a little hoarse. "I'm sure Willow will be back with some water or something, so don't worry about that right now. Tell me what's been happening with you," she implored. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"It's been a little longer than forever for me," the Boston girl stated, sitting down softly next to the bed-ridden girl. She moved carefully and cautiously, afraid to jostle the fragile woman too much. "I haven't seen you in a hundred and fifty years besides our shared Slayer dreams."

Sensing her partner's confusion, the dark slayer quickly continued. "You're…we're…in Hell," Faith explained. "And time moves more quickly down here than on Earth. When you got sick and didn't wake up from your brain surgery," she continued, "Willow and Kennedy brought you down here to get better."

"They reopened the Hellmouth?" the girl asked, her voice full of wonder and amazement.

Faith nodded curtly. "Uh huh. But from what I hear, it was all Dawn's doing. Squirt went behind everyone's back and got Fred to open the portal just like you'd originally planned."

Buffy winced and touched her fingertips to her forehead.

Faith's dark eyes flooded with worry. "Baby, are you okay?" she asked, leaning forward slightly as if ready to pounce into action.

"I-I'm okay. It's just…it's just a lot to wrap my brain around right now," the blonde weakly conceded.

Faith nodded knowingly. "I'm sure your brain is kinda achy from all that poking and prodding the doctors had to do to remove the tumor. But once you get back to full strength, Red can get all magic happy and find a way to get you all back to the real world."

"What do you mean 'you all'?" Buffy asked, narrowing her eyes. "You're coming with us."

Faith shook her head sadly. "Nothing's changed, B. I'm still too much demon to live on Earth."

"So why can't we just make you less demon?" Buffy stated as though it was the simplest solution she'd ever heard of.

Faith scratched at the back of her neck. "I've thought about that, believe me, babe. A person tends to do a lot of thinking when they're on their own for a century and a half." She sighed sadly and raked her fingers through her long tresses. "I looked into having part of the demon aspect taken away; we've got some wicked powerful magicks down here," she reminded Buffy.

"But there's nothing to fill the void," she continued. "It's like how Red and I helped to make you stronger. Energy can't be created. It's just transferred from one body to the next. Same thing with the demon aspect. It was created, and it took away my humanity." Faith twisted her mouth into a sad smile. "The thing with Hell though," she rasped, as images of the recent past flooded through her memory, "there's no humanity down here. If Willow's magic took away some of my demon, there'd just be a hole – with no humanity to fill it up."

"You could have some of my humanity," Buffy pointed out as she sat up straighter in bed. "Or Willow's or Kennedy's. We'll figure this out, Fai."

"I couldn't ask you all to sacrifice yourselves like that." Faith frowned and shook her head. She cast her eyes away from the still-vulnerable form of the woman she loved and her searching hazel-green eyes. Even though she was the slayer, being around Buffy still made her feel weak. "It's too risky, B," she rasped thickly. "The Slayer is too unstable to just be messing around like that."

Buffy reached out and clung onto the girl's bicep. "I'm not leaving you again."

Faith stood up and subtly shook herself free from the smaller girl's grasp. "I'm gonna go in the next room," she stated abruptly as she moved away from the bed. "You should get some rest so you can get stronger. The sooner you're well, the sooner you can go back to your world and your friends and family."

Buffy did nothing to hold back her tears. "Don't do this, Faith," she softly pled, her eyes watery and red. Her hands grasped the top of the down comforter tightly. "Don't shut me out because you're afraid you're going to get hurt."

"I'm fine, Buffy," the dark-haired girl lied, wiping her clammy palms on the back of her jeans. She suddenly felt nauseated and lightheaded. "I lived for a hundred and fifty years without you," she reminded the bed-ridden woman. "I'll be just fine after you go."

The Boston girl turned to leave and began walking towards the doorway of her bedroom.

"And what about me?" Buffy demanded loudly, causing the ancient slayer to pause in the doorframe. "Will _I _be fine?"

Faith sighed before exiting the room. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at the stricken, former slayer. "I guess we'll just have to see each other in our dreams."

Lilah Morgan stood up from the wooden table and gathered her paperwork. "I'll have to draw up some new contracts, but it shouldn't take long. You'll have your friends back soon enough."

Xander frowned at the smartly dressed lawyer. "Well hurry it up, lady," he complained. "It's not like they're just on vacation or something. They're in _Hell._"

The undead Wolfram and Hart liaison pursed her lips at the one-eyed man's words. "I assure you it's not that bad," she stated sourly. "You'd be surprised at how similar this dimension is to Hell."

"If it's not too much trouble, Lilah," Wesley interrupted from a corner of the castle library, "we could all do with a little less talking and a little more action on the part of your company."

The lawyer narrowed her eyes at her one-time enemy and one-time lover. "Don't forget who you answer to as well, Wesley," the woman stated lowly. "It's just as much _your _company as it is mine."

"Okay, this is weird and a little unexpected."

Faith, Buffy, Willow, and Kennedy found themselves in an empty room with no walls or ceiling. The four women had been enjoying a quiet, modest breakfast in Faith's bedroom when the space had been filled with a blindingly white light, and they were inexplicably transported out of Faith's apartment to an unfamiliar location.

"What the –," Buffy began when she recognized the male and female standing before them in the empty room. Willow and Kennedy looked equally, if not more confused than the current and former Slayer.

"What in Hades is going on?" Faith demanded, setting her jaw hard. She flashed a panicked look at Buffy to make sure the still-vulnerable woman had not been injured in transport. The small blonde looked solid on her feet, albeit in her pajamas.

"Calm down, Slayer," one of the marbled figures instructed, noting the animalistic protectiveness of the Boston girl over the health of her partner. "We mean you and yours no harm. In fact, we've brought you here to set things right."

Buffy, despite her missing powers and lack of proper clothing, glared threateningly at the two familiar figures. "Explain yourselves right now," she demanded loudly. "Why have you sent for us? And save all that cryptic prophetic crap for someone else."

"We like to think of ourselves as Watchmakers," the female Power explained, wincing slightly at the attitude of their guests. "We make the watches and then let them do their thing without our interference. But when the watches break, we have to fix them."

"And you all certainly have _smashed _your watch," the male continued for his sister. "And your friends on Earth aren't helping much either. So we've sent for you to make things right again."

"But why did you wait so long?" Buffy demanded, her hands on her small hips in defiance of the Powers. "Things have been crap for a while," she pointed out. "Why couldn't have you intervened, say, _before _Angel died and Faith was sucked into Hell?"

The marbled male shrugged. "We were curious," he lamely stated. "We wanted to see how it would all turn out."

"The important thing for you to know, however," his female companion continued, "is that Magic has always existed in your world. It's been muted, certainly, but not destroyed. No _contract _could effectively eliminate it," she scoffed. "I can't believe you mortals thought that was possible. Honestly," she snickered, "did you really believe _Science _opened that portal? And how did you think your friendly ghosts were able to communicate with you?"

"I don't know," Willow admitted. "Religion? God?"

"Oh please," the female twin snorted. "That woman is _always _playing golf with Eros." She fanned her face with her hand. "Not that I blame Her, though. He _is _quite the looker."

Her brother gave her a disgusted look. "Sure, if you don't mind the oversized diaper and wings. He's perfect."

Buffy waved her hands. "Can you two just focus for a second? What does all of this have to do with us?"

"You're messing everything up," the man stated sternly. "Earth was never supposed to be left without a Champion. And Hell was never supposed to _get _a Champion. It's _Hell._" The chiseled boy sighed and looked at Faith. "We can't keep having you swooping in to save the day down there. No one is _supposed _to be saved."

"And your friends on Earth are about to make an even bigger cataclysmic mistake," the woman added.

"So what happens next?" Kennedy asked, still not quite sure who these white and blue painted people were.

The female's lip curled slightly. "We send you back to Earth so you can stop mucking things up."

"Back to Earth?" Faith asked skeptically. "All four of us?"

The twin siblings nodded wordlessly, but didn't elaborate.

"So that's it?" Willow asked, her face clearly displaying her amazement. "It's just as simple as that? No blood sacrifices, no giving away of one's first born?"

The marble man stood silent for a moment. "You know by now it's never that simple, Witch. We will return you all to Earth on one condition."

The four women waited with bated breath while the Powers exchanged wordless glances.

Finally, the white and veiny woman pointed at the Boston girl. "Only _she _is to be the Champion. We will return you all to Earth," she stated, "but Buffy Summers and the rest of the former potentials are to remain powerless. There can only be _one _Champion."

Faith looked at her lover quickly to gage her reaction. "Are you sure this is what you want, B?" she asked gruffly, not wanting her emotions to show. "I'm sure Red could figure some way to get ya'll back to Earth and you'd get to keep your powers. You've been a slayer for nearly half of your life," she pointed out.

"And I want to keep living my life," Buffy agreed, "but not without _you_."

"Have you come to a decision yet?" the solitary male quickly interrupted.

"Yes," Buffy announced. "Send us home. Send us _all _back to Earth. Faith is your Champion now."

"Excellent," the female twin stated, clapping her hands together. "It shall be done."

"Wait…Just-just one final question before we go," Buffy inquired.

The male twin tapped his foot anxiously. "Yes?" he whined. "Make it quick, mortal. You've wasted enough of our time."

"When I traveled to the Future," Buffy began slowly. "That world that I saw – the one with Melaka Fray – what…what was it that I supposedly did to destroy the Future?"

Both siblings frowned and wordlessly looked at each other. For a few awkward seconds, which felt like a lifetime to Buffy, the twins exchanged silent looks. Finally, the small woman nodded at her brother, and he turned to face the former Chosen One.

The chiseled male stared down at the small blonde. "Are you sure you want to know?" he demanded sternly.

Buffy nodded solemnly and twisted her hands in front of her body nervously.

"Come here, girl," the female twin beckoned, curling her finger. "Since it's safe to assume _that _version of the Future has been forever altered by what you_ didn't _do, we will grant you this one request." She paused and looked at Buffy's friends. "But this is only for you to know until you return to Earth. Then you may do what you please with the information."

Buffy stepped hesitantly before the two imposing, pale white figures. The thinly muscled man stepped down from his platform and leaned forward to whisper in the blonde's ear.

The others in the group strained to overhear, but even with Faith's enhanced slayer hearing, she couldn't make out a single word.

Buffy stood still, listening to the marbled man recant his secrets, and her hazel-green eyes went wide with surprise and realization.

The ink pen in Giles' hand felt heavy as he stared down at the ominous contract.

"So just sign here and here," Lilah instructed, standing over the seated English Watcher, "and initial here, and we'll retrieve your friends from the Hellmouth."

The former librarian and Magic Shop owner readjusted the glasses on his face. Although he knew better than to trust Wolfram and Hart, the man would do just about anything to get the three women back.

"Um, Giles?" Xander sputtered as he noticed a small glowing orb hovering near the library's main entrance. The shining ball of light slightly bounced in the air before smashing into a stone wall. The glowing entity began to enlarge, casting a large disk of light on the castle wall.

"What's going on?" Lilah demanded shrilly.

The portal began to swirl in a counter-clockwise twister of light and a rush of air blasted through the wall, scattering the new contract across the long wooden table. Suddenly, a wave of human flesh erupted out of the pulsing vortex. Eight arms and eight legs, connected to four bodies poured out of the wall and onto the library floor. The four women struggled to disengage themselves from their dimensional travel partners.

The redheaded witch was the first to break free from the jumble of female flesh. "Giles!" Willow panted, out of breath for an unknown reason. "Don't sign anything! It's a trick!"

Kennedy pulled herself out of the tangle of bodies next and ran toward the contract on the library table. She scooped up the pile and began to shred the paper into smaller pieces. "Wolfram and Hart tricked us into believing that Magic was gone," she expounded. "But really all they did was mask its power with the original contract and send Faith to Hell."

Willow stared accusingly at the startled lawyer. "You knew all along that your 'law firm' was setting Twilight up. He really wanted to end Magic, but you double-crossed him. You made us all believe the contract would end magic when all it really did was give Wolfram and Hart a monopoly on Magic on Earth."

Lilah looked away from the witch's flashing eyes and took in the mixed expressions from the others. "I swear I have no idea what she's talking about," she weakly claimed. "Magic _doesn't _exist anymore."

"Then how do you explain this?" The redhead mumbled a strand of Latin verses under her breath and the books from an adjacent bookshelf flew across the room, safely passing through the ghostly lawyer's trim figure, and crashing hard into a wall.

"Woah!" Dawn squealed, "It's like the beginning of _Ghostbusters_!"

"Dang, Will," Xander exclaimed. "Don't take it out on the books!"

"H-how did you do that?" Lilah demanded. "I was told that –,"

"You were told what Wolfram and Hart wanted you to know," Giles interrupted curtly, quickly comprehending the events that had recently transpired. "It's obvious even _they _believed you were not to be trusted with that information." The Watcher paused to look over at Wesley, who remained distant from the war of words. "Perhaps they believed your loyalties would rest elsewhere given your past relationships."

Wesley walked over to Lilah and the rest of the group. "I believe, Ms. Morgan," he formally clipped, "your services are no longer needed."

Despite the rush of activity occurring around them, Faith and Buffy remained wrapped in each other's arms on the floor of the Scottish library.

"Hey, guys?" Xander questioned, staring down at the continued entanglement of feminine limbs. "Uh, welcome back?"

Suggested Listening: "I've Found a Reason" – Cat Power

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," the dark brunette breathed as she touched the side of Buffy's face with the pads of her fingers.

"I'd guess about a hundred and fifty years?" the blonde retorted with a wide smile on her beautiful face.

The two women sat on the edge of the mattress in the Scottish castle's master bedroom.

Faith leaned in and nuzzled the tip of her nose against the soft skin of the smaller woman's cheek, just drinking in the scent of her partner.

When Buffy pulled away, Faith inwardly cringed at the sight of the frown that marred the elder woman's beautiful features. "Buffy?" she questioned. "What's wrong, baby?"

"It's…it's been such a long time," Buffy worried, chewing on her lower lip. "Are…are you sure you still feel the same way about me? I mean, after a century and a half, a lot could change."

Faith grabbed the small blonde's hands in her own and kissed her knuckles tenderly. She chuckled lightly at the other girl's unwarranted worries. "I could have been down there for another century and a half and it wouldn't make me love you any less," she assured the blonde.

"But are _you_ okay with all of this?" Faith retorted seriously. "I mean, you not being a Slayer and all that?"

Buffy frowned wistfully. "It's gonna be hard to get used to," she sighed. "I was a slayer for so long, now it seems like the only life I've ever known."

"It's not like you're just going to _stop _being a super hero though, B," the Boston girl insisted with a small smile. "I just won't let you do so much heavy lifting."

The blonde Californian looked down at she and her lover's enjoined hands and smiled softly. She looked up and felt herself falling easily into the dark chocolate of Faith's large eyes. "I'll miss being strong," Buffy admitted. "But as long as you let me be the boss in the bedroom once in a while, I think I'll be okay," she smiled mischievously.

"You'll always be _my _Chosen One, B," Faith stated quietly as she moved forward and pressed her full lips against her lover's open mouth. "And I'll let you be the boss _all _the time in bed."

Buffy's grin became wider. "Well not _all _the time, I hope," she smiled suggestively.

The two women leaned into each other, their mouths reacquainting themselves once again. Buffy quickly forgot her hesitations and trepidations when she felt Faith flick the tip of her tongue against her lips, seeking permission. The blonde girl moaned quietly, unable to contain herself, now once again feeling those thick bruising lips exploring her own mouth.

Faith reached up with both hands and cradled the former slayer's head in her hands as she deepened the kiss. She ran her fingertips through the silk-smooth strands of golden hair, and lightly massaged her lover's scalp. Buffy slowly pulled back from the gentle, yet insistent lip-lock.

"I need to taste you," she murmured, pushing Faith onto her back on the bed. The former slayer slowly slid down the Boston girl's trembling body. "I can't wait any longer."

Faith eagerly fumbled with the top button of her tight leather pants, but stopped when she felt Buffy's hands on top of her own. "I've got this," Buffy quietly assured her lover.

The Californian easily popped the top button open. Locking eyes with the reclined woman, Buffy slowly unzipped the brunette's pants. Faith lifted her hips off of the bed slightly, making it easier for the small blonde to shimmy the tight trousers down her hips and off of her long legs. Buffy smiled slowly and drank in the half-naked woman with her hazel-green eyes. "You're so beautiful, Fai," she stated quietly. "I missed you so much."

Faith smiled uncomfortably under her lover's gaze. "Just kiss me, B," she urged.

Buffy hooked her fingers under the thin material of the Boston girl's panties and slid them as well down her hips and long legs. Faith sighed when she felt her naked sex become exposed to the air. "Fuck, B," she growled, giving her lover a libidinous look. "You're not wastin' any time, are ya?"

The Californian's lips twisted into a wry smile and she lowered herself onto her knees near the end of the bed. She clasped onto the back of the dark-haired slayer's bare knees and pulled the Boston girl closer to the edge of the bed so that her thin, muscular legs hung off the side. With a firm hand on the inside of Faith's trembling thighs, Buffy leaned forward and kissed along the sensitive skin.

Buffy moaned out from her own pleasure when her tongue made contact with the brunette's seeping slit. She gathered the woman's dripping juices on her tongue before sinking into the ready cavern.

Faith's back arched up off of the bed, her still-clothed breasts thrusting into the air. "God, your mouth feels so good fucking my pussy, baby," the Boston girl exclaimed, her fingers clawing at the cotton sheets beneath her naked form. "God, yes. Eat me, Buffy. Fuck."

Buffy retracted her tongue, causing the writhing body before her to whimper from the loss of stimulation. The blonde girl sucked on two of her fingers briefly before sliding them deep into Faith's desperate sex, causing the Boston girl to cry out her name.

Buffy slid her extended tongue around Faith's naked, sensitive folds while her fingers continued their assault on the raven-haired woman's slit. Faith gently cupped the back of her lover's head and pulled her subtly towards her, causing the former slayer to lick her pussy with more determination and fervor.

"Fuck, B," the Boston girl moaned loudly when the Californian's tongue passed over her aching clit. "Right there, baby," she encouraged. "Fuck, don't stop."

The Chosen One cried out and her body became rigid when she felt all of her nerve endings come alive as she exploded in Buffy's eager mouth. Every muscle in the slayer's body tensed and the loud noise that escaped from her lips surprised both women. Buffy tongued the dark-haired woman's exposed clit, prolonging her climax.

Finally, when she felt Faith's body relax again on the bed, Buffy pulled her head away from the dark slayer's sex and smiled up at her lover from between her splayed thighs.

"Mmm..." Faith purred. "I can see again," she murmured as she lay on her back, one hand against her sweaty forehead. She smiled to herself, enjoying the way her limbs ached and tingled from their recent activities.

Buffy crawled back up Faith's body and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. "That didn't take long," she observed.

Faith gave her lover a lazy smile. "It's been a while, B," she explained. "God, I feel like a prepubescent boy, cumming so fast like that."

A mischievous smile found its way to Buffy's kiss-bruised lips. "You tired, baby?" she purred. "Can't go another round?"

Faith pulled the girl down and groaned when the smaller girl's naked body pressed against her sweaty skin. "Fuck, B," she laughed. "You wore me out! So much for Slayer stamina."

"Well I'm not going anywhere," the Californian pointed out. She placed a small, lingering kiss on the other woman's up-turned mouth. "Round two in the morning."

Buffy turned onto her side and wiggled backwards so that her backside was cradled by the Chosen One's hips. Faith draped her arm around the blonde's thin waist and pulled her closer, pressing her covered breasts against the smaller woman's back.

"B," Faith whispered softly, brushing her lips against the blonde's ear. One question had been troubling her ever since they had been returned to Earth. The Boston girl could feel the smaller woman shiver slightly in her hold when their skin touched. "What did the Powers say to you?" she asked. "What was it that you didn't do that saved the world?"

Buffy snuggled deeper in the dark-haired woman's grasp and smiled when she felt the Boston girl nuzzle her warm nose against her bare neck. "I didn't die of cancer."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

_So I'll love whatever you become_

_and forget the reckless things we've done_

_I think our lives have just begun_

Muse – "Falling Away with You"

Faith's POV

"I can't believe we're actually doing this."

I wrap my arm around my girl's thin shoulders and give her a gentle squeeze and kiss the top of her head. "Believe it baby," I smile. "Freedom."

"And a thirty-year mortgage," she adds. I feel her lips press against my cheek. "It's no secluded cabin," she murmurs close to my ear, "but I guess it'll have to do."

Fuck. Whenever my girl talks all sassy and sexy and low like that, hell if my blood doesn't bubble inside my veins.

The castle in Scotland was certainly big enough for all of us, but we ended up in Cleveland what with me being the only Slayer and the most active Hellmouth being in the Mistake by the Lake. And with Giles being the head of the revamped Watcher's Council, I managed to squeeze a nice little advance outta the guy to put towards a down payment on a sweet little bungalow in the Heights. Just big enough for B and I to keep from killing each other, but too small for our unique extended family to take extended vacations.

The rest of the original Scooby gang is basically scattered around the world right now, which kinda bummed my girl out in the beginning. But something tells me it won't take long before they're missing this life and come back to the Cleveland Hellmouth. Willow and Ken set up shop in San Francisco, and Xander's been doing the vagabond thing as of late. I tease him whenever I get the chance that he's gonna end up settling down with Dracula. I can't help myself; the poor guy has always been too easyto poke fun of.

Dawn decided to stay across the pond to study up to be a Watcher type – kind of a mini-Giles. And because I'm officially older than everyone, courtesy of my century and a half in Hell, I was able to wiggle out of having some Watcher-type thrown my way—all with the promise though, that if things get too hairy, I give jolly 'ol England a ring on the telly.

"I'm just pumped that I won't have to listen to other people besides you peeing." I wiggle my eyebrows at her for effect, "aaand we can have sex _wherever _we want. I've already got a checklist made of all the rooms in our new joint."

Buffy swats my shoulder and I stagger on the concrete sidewalk, pretending she's hurt me. We both know I'm only kidding though since I'm the one with the super powers, not her. It took a while to adjust to that – Buffy not being a Slayer. Just me. The only girl in all the World.

Not gonna lie and say it was easy. B's never been good at sharing, especially not her Slayer powers. It helped end the selfish sting a little, however, that her not dieing of cancer is what saved the world from the fucked up Future she got sucked into. If she had died, I would have stayed in Hell. Wolfram and Hart would have taken over Earth, having a complete monopoly on Magic, and ultimately the evil law firm would have run the planet into the ground. But she didn't die. And she saved us all.

Whenever she gets a little pouty or nostalgic for "the good 'ol days" of being the Slayer, I remind her of that. But ultimately, this was all Buffy had ever wanted – to be a normal girl. To have a normal life. So in the end, she got everything she ever dreamed of.

And me? Well, I got the girl.

"Are you the potential new buyers?" a high-pitched feminine voice asks.

Buffy looks at me excitedly and squeezes my arm through my leather jacket. "We're potential home buyers!" she whispers at me.

A short, robust woman with matronly eyes and a mom haircut waddles toward us with her hand stuck out. "I'm Janice," she tells us with a lively glint in her grey eyes. "I live next door."

Buffy grabs the lady's hand and gives it a firm shake. "I'm Buffy," she introduces herself kindly. She nods back towards me where I'm standing a few feet back on the sidewalk. "And that's my partner, Faith."

I kind of choke on my tongue at that one. The two of us stopped hiding our relationship the moment she was dragged down to hell by Red and Ken, but B and I hadn't really discussed how we were gonna, ya know…break in the neighbors. But I guess she just sent off the inaugural float of our Coming Out parade.

"Partner?" the woman asks, with a gleam in her grey eyes. "I have a partner too!"

Buffy and I exchange a silent glance with each other. "_Does this woman have a clue what we're talking about?"_

Janice continues talking excitedly. "We've been together for twenty-one years. Had a ceremony and everything. We have two children. Sam, he's thirteen and Sophie, she's ten."

"Oh!" Buffy chirps, an adorable smile on her lips. "What great ages."

I'm glad B's able to keep up some semblance of a conversation, cause I'm seriously stunned. I think it would have fazed me less if I'd found out they were demons or something, but _this _I wasn't expecting. _Our next-door-neighbors are lesbians? _

Buffy wanders off because the home inspector shows up in his red van, leaving me behind to entertain Janice.

"So what do you two do?" she asks eagerly, staring up at me with those piercingly interrogative eyes.

I rub at the back of my neck nervously. "Uhm, I guess you could say I work night security," is what stumbles out. Shit, you think I'd be more prepared for this kind of thing. "And B, I mean Buffy," I correct myself, "she's a school counselor."

"Oh, how lovely," Janice gushes. "I was really hoping that our new neighbors would have children for Sam and Sophie to play with. Are you and Buffy planning on having children?"

I struggle not to choke on my own tongue and saliva. Janice is certainly…curious. I shove my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. "We, uh, haven't really…talked about that," I manage to sputter out.

"How did the two of you meet?" she asks, still curious as ever.

I shift my stance, transferring the weight from one foot to the other. "Uh, we met a while back in high school," I say vaguely.

I scan the front yard anxiously to find out where B has disappeared to, silently cursing her for leaving me behind to fend for myself. I'm not used to all this neighborly stuff. I've never been good at small talk unless Janice wants to hear about me wrestling alligators in the nude. But, I guess ya never know.

My eye catches on a bit of golden hair and I see my girl, staring up at the gutters as the home inspector explains something to her. The sun is shimmering off her light blonde hair and she pushes her large sunglasses back onto her forehead so she can get a better purchase of what the inspector is pointing at. In the background, Janice is apologizing for the length of her yard, saying something about how she and her partner are soccer moms and have been too busy to mow the grass lately.

"Uh-huh," I nod absentmindedly, distracted by the knee-length skirt my girl's wearing today that highlights her slender, muscled calves. Not being a Slayer certainly hasn't hurt Buffy's body in anyway. In fact, she's put on a little more soft curves like she had when I first met her back in Sunnydale. She complains about it, but I insist there's just more of her to love. 'Course she still gets hella upset that I can eat like a garbage disposal and not gain an ounce.

"I guess I'd better get up there," I nod toward our new potential home. All we're waiting on is for the inspector to tell us the house is good to go and we'll close the deal. "Nice to, uh, meet you, Janice." I flash her a dazzling smile, making sure to show off my dimples. Suppose I'd better make an effort if the lady's gonna be living next to us.

Janice sighs wistfully. "I remember buying our first home together," she murmurs with a little glazed, far-off look in her eyes. Waving a curt goodbye, I chuckle under my breath and jog up the slight incline of the driveway, leaving Janice to reminisce on the curb.

I sneak up behind B, who's scrutinizing a stack of papers in her hands. Wrapping my arms around her thin waist, I nuzzle my nose into the crook of her neck. "Whatcha lookin' at good lookin'?" I murmur into her perfumed skin.

She leans back into my touch and I can hear the soft sigh escape her pink lips. "The house checks out," she reveals. "That was faster that I'd expected. Jim the inspector says he's never seen a house this sound before. New furnace, new water heater, new air conditioning."

"I knew we had good taste," I say, pressing my lips against the sweet spot in the nape of her neck.

Buffy turns to face me, her face lit up with happiness. It makes my heart flutter a little inside its cage of ribs to see her so happy and to know that I'm the reason behind it. It honestly still seems improbable, if not impossible.

B wraps her arms around my neck and leans in. Her soft mouth is just centimeters from my own. "Well I know that _I _have amazing taste," she murmurs. Her sweet breath feels warm on my face. "But yours has always been a little questionable."

I close the short distance between our mouths and hungrily take her bottom lip in between my upper and lower teeth. I suck the pouting lip into my mouth and hear the quiet growl that radiates deep in her throat. My wandering hands find themselves in the small of her back and they begin to toy with the bottom hem of her pastel-colored top. My fingertips can feel the heat of her tan skin and I want nothing more than to feel the expanse of that heat, naked and pressed against my own form.

I pause when I hear a wolf-whistle. I reluctantly pull myself away from Buffy's addictive mouth and look past her head to see our new neighbor, Janice, standing in her backyard smiling widely and giving us two thumbs up.

"We have an audience, babe," I groan under my breath. "I think we'd better invest in a fence."

"And some curtains," she adds helpfully.

I bend over and quickly clasp one hand behind Buffy's knees. A small squeal of surprise escapes her lips when I lift her up, holding her in my arms as though she weighed no more than a bag of groceries.

"What are you doing?" she protests, kicking her legs slightly in the air. "I'm wearing a skirt," she reminds me, dangerously narrowing her eyes.

I subtly tighten my hold on her body. "Isn't it tradition for the bride to get carried over the threshold?" I ask innocently.

"B-bride?" she asks, her voice little more than a whisper.

My boots sound loud clomping on the cement pavement up to the back of the house, but I'm sure the thumping of my heart sounds louder. "I had to live a hundred and fifty years without you, B," I say. "You think I want to waste any more time without you?"

"Not complaining….just surprised is all." She gives me that patented half-smile of hers and I seriously doubt I'm going to make it into the house before she loses a piece of clothing. I slightly struggle with the back screen door, what with my arms full of hot blondeness, but I somehow manage to wrangle the obstacle open without having to tear it from its hinges.

Buffy, still in my arms, looks around the back room with a wry smile on her lips. "The kitchen seems as good of a place to start on your 'To Do' list, don't you think?"

"Fuck yeah," I mumble in agreement, slamming the back door a little too aggressively with the help of a heavy boot.

I set my girl down on the kitchen island that we thought was a necessity. Buffy imagined pancake breakfasts and I imagined this very moment. I slide out of my leather jacket, letting it fall haphazardly on the tiled floor. Her smooth legs are too much to ignore anymore, and my free hands now glide up the tanned skin, unobstructed by any clothing.

"I fuckin' love it when you wear skirts, baby," I growl quietly, looking hard into her hazel-green eyes. Her eyes are half closed and even if I couldn't smell the arousal radiating off her in waves, I know she's as turned on as me just from the look on her face.

My hands continue their journey up those irresistible stems and I stop when my fingertips brush against the lace edges of her underwear. A quiet whimper escapes her mouth and I smile knowingly at the slight blush that's crept onto her face. I can't help but smirk, knowing it's _me _that gets her this hot. What can I say? I'm a cocky bastard sometimes.

I lean forward and press my mouth against the flushed skin of her bare neck. "Gettin' wet, baby?" I murmur into her flesh. Not waiting for a response, my mouth continues to travel and I kiss along the hollow of her neck. She runs her fingers through my wild waves, slightly tugging my hair at the roots. Fuck, she knows how to make me run hot.

I bite the nape of her neck. It's not as hard as I'd like, because I know it pisses her off when I mark her like that. Apparently at nearly thirty, she's too old for hickies. I kiss and lick at the tender skin.

I rub my strong hands along the insides of her smooth thighs and I can feel her part her legs just a little more for me. Hooking my fingers under the delicate material of her lace panties, I quickly pull them down her lower torso. She lifts her backside a little to help me out, and I hear her hiss when her naked ass hits the cool granite of the kitchen countertop.

With one hand at the nape of her neck and the other still under her skirt, I lean her backwards, slowly reclining Buffy so her back is resting flush on the island countertop. Thankful for the formidable size of the counter, I pull myself up there as well. I crawl in between her legs, so our hips bump against each other and hover above her angelic body.

She strokes lazily at my bare arms, the muscles twitching underneath my blue tank top. "I love you so much, Fai," she croons to me. She reaches up and pulls my face down so we're kissing again. It starts off just as languid as her touch, but I know the hunger burns in both our bellies.

I can't help myself when my lower torso begins to grind into her pussy. Buffy groans when she feels the rough denim of my jeans rub against her naked cunt. I thrust hard into her and she gasps, one long sweet breath rushing from her lungs. She wraps those long, slender legs around me, forcing out pulsing cores tighter together. We push and pull and grind against each other for a few moments and I'm suddenly breathing heavy and can feel the sweat starting to pool in the small of my back.

Needing to feel more of her, I slide one hand in between our bodies. I toss the cotton material of her skirt out of the way, bunching it up around her slender waist. She gasps again when my fingers slide through the slick folds of her shaved pussy. I can feel her arching up into my touch, needing to feel more of me as well.

My digits find their way to her seeping hole and I gather her arousal on my fingers, swirling them around the entrance of her sex. Not wanting her clit to feel left out, I spread some of the thick juices on the throbbing bundle of nerves.

"Oh, God," she moans, her eyes rolling back.

I grunt as I push two fingers up her tight, unrelenting channel. She's so fuckin' tight around my fingers I think I'm gonna cum just from feeling her insides grabbin' at me. "Buffy," I whimper out.

I grab onto her hands with my unoccupied hand and hold her arms above her head. The granite top feels cold and hard in comparison to her warm, soft body. I begin a slow, even rhythm with my fingers. I can feel and hear her getting wetter with every thrust. The clicking noise in the kitchen is fuckin' music to my ears. I keep my gentle, but insistent hold on her wrists with my free hand. Our sweaty foreheads are pressed together. I press my lips against her open, gasping mouth and I can practically taste her as she groans into my mouth.

I quicken my pace inside her and her surprisingly strong legs tighten around me like a fuckin' vice. "Yes, Faith," she moans and presses her mouth into my neck. "God, your fingers," she babbles. "Fuck, don't stop."

I feel her teeth scrape against my neck and I almost lose my control. It's times like this when I have to remind myself how much stronger I am than B and not totally lose it. She's pulled her hands free from my hold and is scraping her short, polished fingernails down my back, having wiggled her hands under the thin tank top I'm wearing. I arch my back, loving the rough touch and thrust into her a little harder.

My newly free hand worms it's way up her top, forcing the material to release its hold on her damp skin. I grab onto a well-proportioned breast. Panting, I feel like a prepubescent boy reaching 2nd base for the first time. Not bothering to unsnap the undergarment, I slip my hand beneath the underwire and roll her already tight nipple between two expert fingers.

"Fuck," she chants, slamming her eyes shut. "Fuck…fuck, baby."

I can feel her tightening even more around my two fingers and I know she can't hold on much longer. "Just let go, baby," I softly urge. I kick and lick at her collarbone, tasting the saltiness of her skin.

My thumb bumps into her aching clit and I feel her stiffen against my body. I thrust deep inside her and rub the bit of flesh with the pad of my thumb. Her pussy spasms around my saturated fingers, swallowing them repeatedly and she cries out unintelligibly. I continue to rub relentlessly until I feel the quiver and pulsing of her tight cunt stop.

My body collapses on top of her in exhaustion, but I know she can handle my slight weight, Slayer or not. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is heavy, but the small, satisfied smile on her curled up lips lets me know I did my job well.

I gently kiss her sweaty forehead and push away some errant strands stuck to the skin. "Good, baby?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

She carnally rolls her hips into mine and I can't help the groan that falls out of my mouth. I'm so worked up, all she needs to do is touch me and I'll pop.

A sweet smile creeps onto her lips. "So, where's next on your list?"

FIN


End file.
